Feels Like Home
by Pats4Life
Summary: Modern W/E. Life is never without complications. What happens when those complications upend two lives forever?
1. Chapter 1

_Ms. Swann, we're calling to confirm that your interview with Driscoll, Anders, and-_

Delete.

 _Congratulations, Ms. Swann! You've been selected for an exclusive deal on -_

Delete.

 _Lizzie, it's Charles. Listen, I had a great time last week at dinner and was wondering if you'd-_

Delete.

 _Elizabeth, it's James, James Norrington. I don't know if you've gotten any of my messages, but your father wished to know if-_

Delete.

A loud flush filled the tiny space and Elizabeth Swann slipped her phone back into her clutch as her best friend exited the stall.

"Ugh," Bria moaned, washing her hands thoroughly at the sink Elizabeth was leaning on. "I understand drinking water to avoid the hangover, but for God's sake you can't even enjoy yourself if you're having to race off to the loo every forty minutes."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "You could try only one daiquiri at a time instead of three."

"But where's the fun in that?" The redhead patted Elizabeth's cheek with a wet hand, her eyes shining with the same mischievous glint they had had since they were little girls. "Besides, it's the last night of our Caribbean getaway. We've got to enjoy ourselves."

"You've been enjoying yourself in every bar in Arbor Bay since we landed. Including the one in the airport."

"Oh, shut it." The hypnotic rhythm of island drums mixed with electronic beats pounded into them as they went back into the packed bar area of the nightclub, gently pushing their way through the Saturday night crowd until they found two empty bar stools. Bria signaled to the grizzled bartender for more drinks. "I need Three Drink Lizzie here with me now. Two Drink Lizzie is no fun."

"Two Drink Lizzie is going to make sure we make our flight tomorrow morning."

Bria grinned. "Yet Three Drink Lizzie could find herself a man tonight to make the finale of her Caribbean getaway unforgettable."

"Two Drink Lizzie could do that, too!" Elizabeth huffed. Her cheeks flamed slightly as Bria raised an eyebrow. "I mean, if Two Drink Lizzie truly wanted to…"

"Well, my dear, since you turned eighteen that hypothesis has remained unprovable." The colorful fruit drinks were placed in front of them and Bria drained half of hers before Elizabeth even picked the other one up. Her rich Scottish brogue deepened the more the alcohol loosened her tongue. "You turn twenty-four next month and as your older and wiser best friend of twenty-seven -"

"Twenty-nine!"

"-I deem it is high time for you to partake in that most sacred rite of passage into true womanhood: The Vacation One-Night Stand."

"Oh, good Lord." Elizabeth groaned into her hands, her long blonde hair creating a curtain to hide her grin.

"No, no! Not now! You shout that later tonight when the man you pick is-"

"Brianna McKendrick, you will be the death of me and my dignity."

"Trust me, dignity is highly overrated." Gently, she tipped Elizabeth's chin up so she could look straight at her, the music and raucous laughter of the Black Pearl fading away from them in the light of Bria's tone. "I'm serious. You're well on your way to becoming the solicitor your father has always wanted you to be. You have interviews all lined up next week and once you start practicing, it'll be utter madness: working sixteen hour days, eating three bites of salad at noon, and drinking nine cups of coffee before the sun rises. This vacation was maybe your last chance to be wild and free, yet you spent it either on the beach with your nose buried in Thomas Hardy and Shakespeare or wandering around pirate museums." Her tender smile became wistful. "You're going to blink soon and be twenty-nine, my darling. If you never believe me about anything else, believe me about this."

Elizabeth did believe her; then again, she'd believed in anything Bria had told her since they were girls, their friendship forged over countless shared smirks and eyes rolls at the gatherings of the elite British social circle they had both been born into. As they grew older, they became best friends, sisters, mothers, therapists, drinking companions, and occasionally nursemaids to one another. She knew Bria was telling her the absolute truth just as Bria knew why tonight Elizabeth would more than likely end up back in her room, alone: Elizabeth Swann had finally grown weary of being a disappointment.

Her father had never said the words to her. Weatherby Swann - one of the most distinguished financial figures in all of Europe and a key member of the European Union - adored his only child and should the need have ever arisen, would have reshaped the stars in the sky to make her happy. But adoration did not negate displeasure and over the years Elizabeth had developed a keen sense of where that gentle line lay. In her youth, she willfully jumped back and forth between it; whether it was running away from piano lessons with patch over her eye and a toy sword waving in the air, or wearing a pair of black army boots underneath her ballgown at her sixteenth birthday, or putting an alarming streak of pink through her hair right before a banquet in his honor. Her father endured all her rebellions with tact and grace, even as his frowns slowly became set a little deeper and his sighs a bit louder. But it wasn't until the night his security officers brought her home one night, reeking of booze with a silly grin on her face after she'd crashed her car into a marble fountain at the entrance of their manor house, that everything changed.

"Father, I can explain it all perfectly," she had begun, her words slurring as she swayed in his opulent study, stuffed animal heads and ancestral portraits staring down on her. "You see, what happened was-"

"Go, Elizabeth," he said, his voice steady, as if he were conducting a meeting.

"I'm sorry?"

"Go."

"Go…go where?"

"Away." She blinked, the smile on her face slipping slowly. He had never said anything like that to her before. "Go away from me right now because if I have to look at you in…in this state for another moment, I will lose what bit of my sanity you have left me imagining the shame your poor mother would feel at the sight of you right now. Just go."

Her focus was blurry thanks to the excess of rum she had drank, but finally she was able to make out the small welling of tears escaping from his eyes. He cried for her. She hadn't thought it was possible to upset him so. Even at her mother's funeral, she had the clearest memory of gazing up at him and seeing no tears. Deep pain, of course, but not a single tear until that moment. Shame like she had never thought possible seared through her stomach and up into her heart, pumping enough blood through her body to help ease the fog her drinking had provided. Gripping a side table as she slowly turned away from him, she mumbled meekly, "I'm s-s-sorry, Father."

He said nothing as she stumbled up the grand staircase and in the morning, she said nothing to him. Elizabeth simply met him downstairs for breakfast, where he was already engrossed in one of his newspapers, her hair pulled back and wearing a slight bit of makeup to cover the effects of the night before. When their food arrived, she pulled out a thick book and began reading as he glanced up at her.

"What are you reading?" he finally asked her from across the long table.

"A history of sixteenth century nobility," she replied demurely. "I have an exam soon." Chancing a glance over to him, she saw him eventually give a slight nod and an even slighter smile back to her. The world properly realigned, they both went back about their business as if to purge the previous night from their memories.

It stayed with Elizabeth, though. While she still socialized and went about enjoying life as any teenager and later twenty-something would, she constantly felt her father's eyes on her, like he was viewing her every action from a telescope she could never escape from. Nearly every opportunity for indecent or radical behavior (at least her father's rather broad definition of it) that came her way, she could almost taste his disapproval and it crippled her. She left parties early or often, didn't go at all. She put her efforts into her studies and was on the precipice of beginning her career in law, something he had hoped for since she was a child. To her own amazement, she had even begun helping her father host parties and political functions. Little by little, bit by bit, she found herself succumbing more into a world of respectability, devoid completely of the sense of wonder and light she had searched for as long as she could remember. What's more, she was succumbing without even putting up much of a flight. Bria was the only person in her life who still remembered that old Elizabeth and on occasions like this getaway, could still pull a part of her out. Not all of it, though. Never all of it.

For Elizabeth could never forget the agony of what it felt to almost lose her father's love and she'd never risk it again. For anything at all. There were so few, after all, that loved her in the first place that she couldn't afford to lose any.

And one of them looked as if she had been waiting for some time for Elizabeth to come back to Earth.

Ignoring Bria's quizzical stare, Elizabeth reached over with one hand to pat Bria's hand and with the other, she nudged her full glass further away from her. "Two Drink Lizzie hopes she'll look as wonderful as you do when she turns twenty-seven."

Bria could only shake her head and sigh. Someone who didn't want to be saved couldn't be saved. "Let's just split the difference and agree I'm twenty-eight."

"Deal."

"For at least three more years."

"Agreed."

"Unless I have a chance for a night with Prince Harry. Then I'm definitely twenty-four."

Elizabeth giggles turned into full-throated laughter. "We have an accord, Ms. McKendrick."

"Lovely. Well, seeing as Two Drink Lizzie is here to stay, does she have any objection if I go engage in some debauchery for my own amusement?"

The pang of loneliness was dulled now, Elizabeth long since used to its presence whenever she let herself be left behind. "Two Drink Lizzie does not, so long as you understand that she is going to the airport tomorrow at 10:00 am with or without you."

"No promises. Love you." Sliding off the bar stool, Bria pressed a quick kiss to Elizabeth's cheek and-drink in hand-sauntered off into the sea of bodies, leaving her best friend behind while she went to go and live life just as she wanted to.

 _It must be nice_ , Elizabeth thought to herself, lightly circling the rim of her glass with her fingertip, considering it for answers she'd yet to find anywhere else. She might have sat there like that all night if not for a warm tickle of air against her exposed ear, sending a shiver straight down to her toes.

"Is this seat taken?"

"No, take it. I was just getting ready to…" Elizabeth glanced behind her and the mechanics of speech failed her. A pair of dark eyes deep enough to fall into met hers, shining brilliantly as the man behind them grinned, a pair of dimples emerging that she suddenly had the strongest urge to run her fingertips across.

"Just getting ready to…what exactly?"

 _Surgically attach my lips to yours? Bury my nose in those dark curls? Rip your jacket and shirt off at the same time? Completely forget every sense and sensibility I've ever had to get you alone somewhere?_

Feeling the blush creep up her skin along with her own smile, she took in the smallest breath possible to calm the nerves not frayed this way since the first stirrings of adolescence. "Getting ready to keep sitting here for a bit longer," she finally replied.

"Well," he said, gliding his lean body down beside her to sit, "then you've just made my night." He held out his hand. "I'm Will."

For the first time in ages, for reasons she couldn't even fathom, she felt the hesitancy she had cloaked herself in begin to slip away in the gentle, almost adoring gaze of this stranger; her dear father could have been sitting on her other side and she wouldn't have noticed. Picking up her drink, she took a long drag from it as she put her other hand in his. Every part of her warmed the moment their skin made contact and she wondered if he could feel her slight tremble.

"I'm Elizabeth."

* * *

Will Turner had been getting ready to head home early. Though he had rather detailed and lewd instructions from Jack on what he was to do with his rare free evening, he had merely spent most of his time at the Black Pearl chatting up with some of the bartenders, like Gibbs and Marty, and nursing a bottle of beer. Occasionally, as the club filled up over the evening, he spared a glance or two for some of the women that filtered past him, but no one interested him enough to leave his perch at the end of the bar.

Until she had breezed through the door.

He had been reaching for his phone to text Jack, letting him now he was heading back home, when he spotted her out of the corner of his eye. Even amid the crowd, she stood out and it had nothing to do with the way her pale blue dress clung to her curves or how her honey-colored blonde hair lit up the darkness of the room: it was her smile. She smiled with every inch of her being at something her companion had whispered in her ear and Will felt himself staring helplessly at her beauty. Without hesitation, he pocketed his phone and drained the rest of his beer, motioning to Cotton for another as he bided his time.

She and her friend - the redhead - seemed content to stay sitting at the bar; the redhead laughing boisterously and downing her drinks as soon as they were placed in front of her, while the object of Will's attention giggled and took dainty sips, sometimes biting down on her lip and rolling her eyes at whatever audacious thing her friend had just said.

She was one of the most gorgeous sights he had ever seen. And as much as he wanted to, as much as he desired to be near here in a way that shocked his normally temperate system, he couldn't make his legs carry his body towards her.

Not until he was absolutely sure.

"Hey, boy!" Will glanced behind the bar to find Gibbs raising a scruffy eyebrow towards him. "Where your mind be?"

"Nowhere," Will answered quickly. "I mean…I'm right here. Just enjoying a night to myself." He took a long drink to fortify his courage. This was going to be painful. "Say, mate, the blonde down that way?" He nodded towards the mystery woman. "Have you heard her talk about…" He trailed off when Gibbs looked him straight up and down. Will's face reddened. "Never mind."

Gibbs chuckled to himself, his laugh graveled by years of booze and sea-salt air. It had been many years since he had seen the lad that taken by a young lady and Will had never had himself much of a gambler's face. Still, for him to ask for a little bit of help must have meant that his yearning for her company was growing more eager than he wanted to admit. Gibbs took pity on him.

"Nay, haven't been down that way much myself. But I've never seen her in here before and believe me, a female form as fine as that would linger in a man's memory."

 _Yes, it would_ , Will agreed silently. While he watched them, the redhead swiveled on her stool and started chatting up a pair of gentlemen groomed within an inch of their lives that had sidled up behind them. When she tried to get the other woman ( **his** woman, Will couldn't stop himself from thinking) to join, Will felt his stomach sink. However, instead of allowing herself to bask in the attention of the willing blokes, she smiled politely and kept her back to them, letting her friend seemingly have all the fun of being desired.

It should have filled him with relief; she was still possibly available to him this evening yet he couldn't help but notice the shadow that ghosted over her brown eyes. She was sad and for some reason, it made Will feel like less of himself to see that.

"Say, Will," Gibbs pulled his focus away from the woman and the unsettling feeling her pensiveness had caused in him. "You never did mention how the meeting went this morning." Will simply took another drink as his reply. "Aye, sorry. Christophe be nothing but a fool for turning away your services."

"No, he's not."

"William Turner, you have more knowledge of ships and how to bring 'em back to life than any ten men together on this Godforsaken rock. Someone's gonna be smart enough someday to give you a chance."

Will smiled. "No, they won't."

"Hey, there's no cause to be so -"

"Gibbs, I have no proper training, no schooling, and no time to even begin a restoration project should I be given one. Anyone who did give me a chance would be more the fool for it." He shook his head. "I don't know why I keep letting Jack talk me into putting the thought out there."

"Because, young master Turner, you are a man of the sea, and true men of the sea keep their wits about them with hope stitched tight to their hearts," Gibbs smiled. He raised a shot glass in toast and Will clinked his bottle to it. "And the sea, she can be a kind goddess when it pleases Her. Why just tonight, she brought you in a bonny lass to…" Gibb's smile slipped and Will couldn't help but groan; he knew instantly what he would see when he turned his head. Defeat was never something he ran from, though, so he did turn and was unfortunately proven right:

The young woman who had captivated his concentration for most of the hour had disappeared in the few moments he hadn't been watching her. Will's shoulders slumped.

Gibbs reached over to clap him on the back. "Sorry, boy. Her kind nature is sometimes hard to distinguish from Her fickle nature.

"Amen to that," Will muttered.

Gibbs left him to attend to other patrons and he decided that all signs were pointing to his evening being over. Nodding his goodbye over to Gibbs, he stood up dejectedly and reached into his pocket for his car keys; instead he pulled out another, smaller set and cursed Jack Sparrow. Before he left Jack's earlier, he had somehow missed it when Jack slid the keys to one of the furnished private rooms a floor above the Black Pearl. When Jack had bought the building several years ago, he had specifically left the three small lofts in place for his own personal use. They were multi-purposeful: employees too drunk or tired after a long night at the club; a place to stick a rowdy, disgruntled customer until the cops inevitably showed up; a safe haven for when Jack was occasionally thrown out of his own house, by his better half, Anamaria; or, as Jack had intended for tonight, a place for one of his trusted friends to work out some tension with much-needed pleasurable and willing female company.

"Damn it," he huffed. Not wanting to deal with Jack's unsubtle brand of criticism if he saw the man tonight, he decided to pawn the keys off on someone else. "Gibbs! Can you run these back to the office?" Gibbs either ignored him or didn't hear him over the din of customers eager to be served and Will little more luck catching the eye of anyone else. Shaking his head, he slowly started making his way towards the office door near the entrance of the restrooms. He knew the pass code to the keypad and that way he could postpone his harassment for a bit longer. He just wished Jack hadn't slipped him the keys to begin with. It only added another layer of frustration to a day already overloaded with them.

 _What the hell? I'm bitter enough by now, might as well be honest: a damn near lifetime of nothing but frustrations. Just once, I'd like to –_

A shoulder softly brushed past him, breaking his musings. The scent of lilies engulfed him and he couldn't help but turn towards it; the quickest glimpse of her profile, surrounded by cascading blonde hair, froze Will against the wall as she breezed past him with her friend heading back to the bar from the restroom. Relief so palpable he could taste it flooded his senses.

She was still here. Defeat be damned, she was still here.

It took every ounce of self-control to pin himself against the wall while the women sat at the bar again. Gibbs hurriedly prepared their cocktails and placed them down, only to Will's knowing eye lingering just a second too long to catch a snippet of their conversation. As he walked away, he caught Will's eye again and grinned in a most feral manner, flashing a thumb's up. Will smirked and nodded, practically giddy with appreciation of whatever god or goddess, fickle or otherwise, had answered his silent plea:

His girl was a tourist; here for a few days of possible companionship and then back off to her own life, leaving Will to his own complicated one with no worries or lingering commitments. Putting the keys away again, Will decided to cash in the chip that the mad universe owed him.

It took him a few moments to make his way back to her; as was typical on a Saturday, the Black Pearl was nearly beyond capacity, a sea of bodies either making their way to the dance floor or to the bar for their liquid escapism. Finally, Will found himself in earshot of his pursuit for the first time all night.

"…does she have any objection if I go engage in some debauchery for my own amusement?" he heard the redhead ask over the din.

 _A gal from Glasgow_ , he thought, remembering his mother's expression when he heard the accent.

"Two Drink Lizzie does not, so long as you understand that she is going to the airport tomorrow at 10:00 am with or without you," his girl replied simply, nodding her friend away after she was given a goodbye peck to the cheek and turning back to the bar.

 _And a lady from London. A very lovely one who's leaving shortly._

Lovely might be underselling it. Every feature – from her porcelain skin to her high cheekbones to the slight upturn of her nose – mixed and melded to create someone that Will could have only come up with in a dream, with one small exception: there wasn't any dream he could imagine in which he would want to see such a forlorn expression in her eyes.

His stomach twisting, he realized abruptly he wanted to help her ease whatever pain she was in more than he wanted to forget his own troubles. That thought stopped his feet from moving forward; good Lord, that thought **scared** him. He never wanted any type of emotional connection with these encounters. He simply wanted a good time with women who wanted the same; women who wanted a story to tell their friends about their vacation, or revenge against a cheating ex, or whatever reason one could come up with justifying a one-night stand. If both parties were sober and consenting, why bring something as bothersome as sentiment into the equation? Someone behaving like this Lizzie (a name that, in all honesty, he thought poorly suited her beauty) was usually someone he avoided: sadness lead to regret, which lead to guilt, which beget more sadness, and the cycle spun on. Her eyes, fetching as they were, warned his every rational instinct to stay away and he believed he was capable of it; his feet were even starting to back away when he noticed her long, elegant fingers play with her glass. Within an instance, a thousand images of what else her fingers could do bombarded his mind. He found himself instead moving closer until he was at last standing behind her, the fragrance of her perfume devastating him with its power over his body.

Will heaved a small sigh. He was a weak man. He had known that for years now. He only hoped now that his own failings could provide, at the very least, some physical comfort to her.

To **his** Lizzie...Elizabeth


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone for the great responses so far. I hope everyone enjoys where this is going as it is very modern and very A/U.**

* * *

Her face was warm. That was the first thought that prodded Elizabeth into a state of partial awareness. Her body was warm as well, nestled under a thick comforter, and her limbs loathe to move as she tried to stretch them across the soft sheets. But her face felt the full brunt of the tendrils of sunlight invading the room and she abhorred the idea of opening her eyes.

"Good morning."

Not yet awake, she mumbled, "It is morning. I accept that. I don't wish to raise my expectations so high to think it will be 'good'." She snuggled down further into the mattress, perfectly content to stay like this for always.

Her cohort let a small chuckle slip. "I take it you're not an early-riser."

"No, and those who are should be drawn and quartered in the village square."

"You know, most judges would consider probation before jumping right to dismemberment."

"And as such, our world continues to spiral into chaos." Amid her stretching, Elizabeth's hand brushed faintly against a firm expanse of skin. She slowly gave in to reality to find herself caressing the very fit upper body of a man. The events of the past evening (and most of the very early morning) crashed over her in a wave of heat and her cheeks burnt to crimson as her eyes met his.

"Hello, Will Turner," she heard herself whisper.

"Hello, Elizabeth Swann."

Taking in the facts at present – his disheveled brown hair, naked torso, and the obviousness of being in a bed together – Elizabeth still couldn't resist pulling the comforter away from her own chest and glancing down, finding herself, to no surprise (and, startlingly, no embarrassment), without a stich of clothing on.

"I had three drinks last night," she simply said.

"You did." Will's hand gently combed through her own messy hair and she couldn't resist leaning into his touch. "Your friend was very proud of you when you told her you were leaving."

"Ugh…she will never let me live this down." Frowning, she brought her hand up to cup her throat, realizing how hoarse her voice sounded. Her eyes bulged as a spark of memory took hold. "Oh my God! I was loud last night!" His chocolate eyes crinkled in amusement and she shot up with a gasp. "Do not laugh! **You** were loud too, good sir!"

"I was," he freely admitted. "One could say we were loud together."

"That they could." His hand was still fascinated with her hair, tucking a stray lock behind her ear, as he gave her crooked smile. Trying to keep her mind off how fast her heart was beating at his nearness, she looked around the room and noticed the sparse surroundings for the first time. The green walls were empty of pictures or art, just two windows on one side with dingy curtains. Aside from the king-sized bed they were sitting on, the only other piece of furniture was a worn night table next to them. Both his phone and her purse sat on it and unless she was mistaken, her lacy black bra was hanging off a corner. The puzzle pieces from last night that she had purposefully ignored in the thrill of unbridled desire clicked into place.

"You bring women here a lot, don't you?" she asked, pleased at how little of her actual disappointment seeped into the question.

Will had the decency to look chagrined. "Not that many."

"But enough to know what to say to get me out of here quickly, no muss or fuss." His hand dropped from her hair and he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting away. "So how does it go? Do we get breakfast?"

"Nope."

"Share a ride?"

"No."

Feeling a bit guilty for how her questions were making the shame settle in his broad shoulders, she quirked an eyebrow and leaned closer. "Share a shower?" she asked, only half-joking. The scent of his lingering sweat and the remnants of his aftershave made her thighs clench together.

Something in her expression seemed to ease him and he shook his head, his fingers finding hers on the blanket. "I get dressed, leave a note with some cab fare, put a bottle of water with two aspirin on the table, and sneak out before the sun comes up," he explained quietly.

"Oh."

"Yeah." He tried to play it off for a laugh, but it rang hollow. "I'm **that** kind of guy."

 _No, you're not_ , she instantly thought to herself. Recollections of the past several hours came to the forefront of her mind: the sincerity of his smile as they flirted at the club; making sure Bria knew that she was leaving with him; how carefully he had laid her down on the bed; the way his hand had soothingly rubbed against her hip as they sporadically gave in to fits of rest before passion roared back to life…

Elizabeth couldn't say if Will believed in heaven or hell, how he took his tea, or if he even had a home of his own. She could only say with absolute and complete certainty – something she didn't possess an abundance of – that Will Turner was not who he thought he was.

After a heavy silence of contemplating this perplexing man she had so willingly let go of her inhibitions for, she finally asked, "So where's mine?" At his puzzled look, she nodded to the table. "My water and my cab fare. Where are they?"

"You didn't get any."

"Why not?"

It took him a moment to respond. When he did, the words came slowly. "Because I wanted to see what you looked like in the sunlight," he murmured, stroking her hand with his fingertips.

The haze of lust she found herself enveloped in with just a few words and his light touch against her skin dizzied her. She leaned in even further, resting her forehead against his. She shut her eyes and breathed him in. "Terrible letdown, wasn't it?"

"Not in the least, Ms. Swann. Not in the least." His breath mingled with hers and her lips fell open with want, eager to reacquaint herself with his taste the feel of his stubble against her skin as he cupped her cheek and...

The familiar tune of "Killer Queen" began blaring from her bag and as much as she adored her, Elizabeth would have easily committed vicious murder against her best friend if given the chance to. Moaning, she squeezed her eyes even tighter shut, trying to prolong the moment if she could.

Unfortunately, Will would have none of it. Tilting her face down gently, he pressed his kiss to her forehead instead of her lips. "The clock's struck midnight," he said into her hairline.

"I suppose it has." Sighing, she reached across him, letting her bare flesh caress his one last time, and grabbed the offending device out of her purse. She gasped when she saw the time. Her flight left in two hours. "Oh, bloody hell!" Her reflexes sprang into overdrive and she dove over Will to gather her scattered clothes, adrenaline prevailing over modesty in her haste to get ready.

"The, uh, bathroom is right across the hall," she heard him say over her still ringing phone as she crawled on the floor looking for her shoes. The bed creaked slightly when he stood and she scrambled to her feet out of the room, clutching her wrinkled wardrobe.

 _Do not look back at him. Absolutely do NOT look back at him, Elizabeth!_ She commanded herself. Such temptation would only cost her precious time. When she was safely ensconced in the bathroom, she hit the speaker button on her phone. "Bria, I'm so sorry! I'm…I just…Give me five minutes to -"

"Was he fabulous?"

"What?" Her limbs contorted wildly as she tried to simultaneously dress in her skimpy outfit and listen to Bria in the miniscule space.

"Sexy Bar Man. Was he fabulous in bed? Give me every single detail while it's still fresh in your mind, hold nothing back."

"Bria, we're going to miss our flight and my father is meeting me at the airport! I don't have time to -"

"I'm sitting in a cab outside the Black Pearl right now. I got all your things from our suite, including all the stupid tourist pamphlets you collected. The boarding passes are in my hand, your passport is next to mine in my purse, and you can get changed at the airport."

Elizabeth finished pulling up the strap of her dress and found herself staring dumbly at her reflection in the mirror. "Bria, you're amazing."

"I know, I'm the guardian angel of one-night stands. Now, back to the issue: Sexy Bar Man, Lizzie. Give me all the details."

There were a thousand different words Elizabeth could have used to describe what had happened: amazing, tender, scorching, raw, beautiful, serene, and turbulent came to mind immediately, yet as she struggled to tame her hair with just her fingers, there was only one answer she could give. "No."

"No, what?"

"No details. It's…It's mine. What happened last night belongs to me. Just me."

 _And Will._

Even three-stories above, Elizabeth could feel Bria's penetrating eyes studying hers. "Elizabeth Abigail Swann, what on Earth…"

"I'll be down in couple of minutes," she hurriedly said, shaking her head. "Listen, my guardian angel didn't happen to bring -"

"Orange juice and a blueberry bagel. It's all yours when you say farewell to Sexy Bar Man. So, get your ass down here." Bria ended both the phone connection and Elizabeth's distractions from her own thoughts.

 _All right then. Like he said, clock's struck midnight. Time to go home, Cinderella._

An unexpected and unwanted hint of tears began to sting the back of her eyes. Cursing herself, she splashed cold water over her face and examined her reflection in the mirror. Her make-up was smudged beyond belief, her hair was an abomination, and she counted at least three separate marks dotting her shoulder and collarbone. Both of her hands clutched the faded porcelain of the sink as she easily remembered the feeling of Will's mouth against nearly every inch of her body and she bit down on her lip to suppress a breathy moan. The slight sting she felt in return served only to remind her that she had done that quite a bit in the small bedroom last night.

It had never been like this with any other man. While she had never been promiscuous, there had been lovers and relationships over the years. She would have even sworn a time or two she had experienced true passion; that she had been taken to that elusive place where ecstasy had been imagined from. She would have been lying, though, because until last night…with Will it had been…

"Oh god," she whispered, hastily splashing more water over her face to control herself. Just thinking of it, with Will only feet away in the next room, was almost enough to send her body back into spasms.

 _That will not do, Elizabeth_ , she thought, the voice of her conscious sounding much too much like her father's as she washed off her face until it was clean. _That will not do at all, dear girl._

Her father…there was no room in his life for this lustful creature she had been these past hours. He needed her to be respectful, elegant, a lady as defined by the society that Elizabeth had been born into without consultation or consent. If she was all those things, he would love her still. What would she be, what would she have in her life if she was someone that not even her own father could love? So off to home it was. She'd practice law, gossip with Bria, and help her father throw fine dinner parties at his manor in the country or the London townhouse. At one of those parties, he's introduce her to a well-connected broker or maybe even a young member of Parliament. They'd court for a year, maybe two, before they wed. She'd quit her job to raise their children and throw **his** fine dinner parties, and perhaps, if she was very blessed, there might be a moment or two in their lifetime when she felt the sense of peace she had felt waking up this morning with –

She slapped herself hard across the face. Blinking wildly in the mirror, she smoothed her hair down and took a deep breath, only allowing herself a flash of a moment to admire and trace the small love bite on her collarbone. "Go home," she finally ordered herself. Collecting her senses and putting the strap of her purse on her shoulder, she opened the bathroom door, hoping against hope she could sneak away without having to face him again.

That plan went to shit when she found Will standing outside the door, hand raised to knock, wearing his trousers but still without his damn shirt on.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, edging around him and avoiding his eyes at all cost. She had to get away from him. "I didn't mean to take so long. I've got to get -"

"Elizabeth, do you need a ride?" She stopped her march down the short hallway to the door, looking back over her shoulder at him, her brow furrowed. "I-I just mean if…it might be tricky getting a cab this early on a Sunday a-and, uh, you…" He stammered, his hand going to the back of neck again. How was it possible for someone to look that sweet and sexy all at the same time? "If you want, I could -"

"I thought you don't give rides to your…company," she challenged, turning to face him fully. "Just a good time, water, and cab fare."

Something in his eyes darkened, even as a slow, self-assured smile crept up along his cheeks and he took a step towards her. "Yes. You're right. I sleep with women I don't really know and leave them come morning, never to think of them again."

"I know," she bristled yet unable to stop moving forward. "You explained that already."

He was close enough now to grab her. "Do you know there has been a couple whose names I can't even remember to put on the note?"

"Really? That's just terrible." Her heels clicked along the floor, echoing in the small space that was growing smaller with each step they both took.

"I know. I'm a bastard beyond redemption." Finally standing in front of her, he dropped his eyes down to her shoulder, brushing the mark with his thumb, making every nerve ending in her lower body crackle to life. "So…" he drawled, leaning in, his nose grazing the tip of hers, "do you need a ride, Elizabeth?"

 _ **Beep! Beep! Beep! Be-**_

"Goddamn it, Bria!" she hissed, wrenching herself away from him. In more than fifteen years of knowing each other, Elizabeth had never wanted to kill her more than she had in the past fifteen minutes. Ignoring the car horn still blaring from outside, she glanced back at Will. "I have to go."

She equally hated and loved how crestfallen he looked as he nodded. "Yeah, you do."

The goodbye could have slipped from her lips and that would have been that. But she couldn't say just that after what she had shared with him. "Thank you," she whispered, taking his hand and squeezing it. "Thank you for sitting next me last night."

He nodded before smiling, kindness instead of lust creating it. "Thank you for being Three Drink Lizzie last night."

"Only she," Elizabeth gestured towards the area the car horn came from, "can call me that, you know."

"Why's that?"

"Because she's got all my secrets locked up in her heart."

He raised an eyebrow. "All of them?"

 _No, not all of them_.

He wouldn't get an answer out of her regarding that. Dropping his hand, she walked back towards the front door, trying to breathe him out of her system and her head. The second her hand wrapped around the doorknob, though, the urge was simply too powerful to fight against. Whirling around, she raced over to him, muttering under her breath, "Oh, fuck it all to bloody hell."

His arms were around her at once, crushing her to his bare chest as she crushed her lips to his, one hand gripping his hair as the other raced up and down his spine. Their tongues danced madly, mouths moving incessantly, and she could feel how excited he was as he pushed her into the wall, his hand inching up the hem of her dress. It was only the feel of his calloused fingers at the juncture of her thighs, trying to edge her knickers aside that broke through the heat numbing her mind and she tugged back on his hair, the pair of them struggling to breathe.

His eyes…His eyes were alight with desire, mischief, joy, sadness, and something Elizabeth had no name for. She'd miss them terribly.

"Goodbye, Will," she sighed pushing herself off him and hurrying out of the room, back to a waiting Bria.

Back to a life waiting to be fulfilled.

* * *

"Holy shit," Will said to himself, his head and forearm still resting against the wall even after he heard the front door slam. His other hand he moved to his chest, urging his heart to slow down and his lower anatomy to control itself.

 _Good God…That kiss…That woman…_

He hadn't known what to expect from her last night when he began flirting with her. Elizabeth was beautiful, maybe the most beautiful woman Will had ever seen in person. Everything about her – from her attire to her mannerisms, even her accent – had screamed she was a prim and proper lady raised in Kensington, educated at Oxford, and maybe even a guest of the Royal Family on occasion. In other words, not the most likely candidate for a night of wickedness between the sheets. Thankfully, she had surprised him, then amazed him, then finally brought him to the brink of insanity with her pouting, teasing lips.

Though as much as her naughtiness enticed him, there was a wholesome innocence she had embodied that had endeared her even more to him. When they had finally managed to make it into the bedroom, hindered by a compulsive need to keep their bodies and lips pressed together, he had started to slowly slide her dress up, only to have her burst into high-pitched giggles when his hands moved up her sides. Enchanted by the sound, he kept repeating the motion until she collapsed into his arms, nuzzling her face into his neck for a moment before her teeth began nibbling on his shoulder and yearning took control.

It had continued like that, equal parts carnal lust and quiet moments of elation up until the sun started to rise and Elizabeth had fallen into a slumber desire couldn't interrupt. Will kept his eyes open. He never slept in this room. It did no good to pass out and create an awkward encounter the next morning with whomever he had shared the bed with. With Elizabeth, he still had no urge to shut his eyes; he simply didn't have an urge to leave her side either. As beautiful as she was moaning and sitting astride him, it couldn't compare to what she looked like at rest, completely at peace and safe from the sadness that she hadn't been able to hide from him at the bar.

Will could only begrudgingly thank her gal from Glasgow for calling this morning. If she hadn't, he was certain he wouldn't have been able to let Elizabeth leave. And she had needed to leave. There was a world outside the door that he belonged in and she most assuredly did not.

With his body back under the influence of his mind rather than his libido, Will walked back into the bedroom and picked up his phone, cringing when he saw all the texts he had missed. Quickly, he dialed the number that had been trying to reach him.

After only one ring, Jack picked up. "Where are you?" he asked without preamble.

"Why does no one want to say, 'good morning' anymore?" Will replied. He smiled to himself, unable to stop himself from thinking of Elizabeth.

"I will answer you that question, young William, when you answer mine and enlighten me where on this humble planet called Earth you have escaped to."

"I'm still at the apartment. I'll be there in -"

"Beggin' your pardon, could you please repeat yourself more slowly and properly enunciate your words because -"

"Jack…"

"- I could have sworn that the sun is risen and therefore you should have taken your leave of that amorous abode quite a long time ago." Will could practically hear Jack's leer over the phone. "Please tell me she let you take pictures. I must set eyes on this buxom -"

"Jack, I'll be there in an hour. I just want to stop at home and grab a shower first."

"Hang on a minute. There's a shower there. Use it and be here in a half an hour, savvy?"

"No savvy. I'm using the one at my home because I know for sure what's gone on in it, unlike here."

"Now see here, Turner. I have done you a great service at great personal cost to myself, two of my least favorite things in the world to do. Now you will not -"

"I'm showering at my own house without you raising a fuss or Anamaria will find out where her Valentine's Day gift came from."

After a lengthy pause, Jack grumbled sullenly, "Do take care to properly rinse and repeat."

"Thanks, Jack, truly." Hanging up, he sat back down on the rumpled sheets, his fingers ghosting over the pillow her head had rested on. "Go home," he told himself quietly. Looking around the room, he knew deep down he'd never be bringing another woman to this exact room. Nothing in his wildest dreams could ever top what had gone on in here and in all honesty, it would be quite some time before he felt the need to "relieve tension" with another woman.

She may not have meant to, but Elizabeth Swann had left quite an impression.

Even an hour later, freshly washed and dressed in clean shorts and a t-shirt, she still lingered in his mind as he left his small beach bungalow to begin the short walk to Jack's home. Already in the distance, he could see a bikini-clad Anamaria lounging on a long beach chair, flicking through a magazine, and he quickened his steps. He hastily breathed in the calming sea air, trying desperately to let the sound of the waves crashing nearby drown out the memories of Elizabeth before he reached his destination, almost to the point of beating himself upside the head. He was genuinely baffled. It had never been this hard to disconnect that part of his life from his actual life, the one that truly mattered:

The one he could now see building a horribly misshapen sandcastle in front of the chair with her favorite teddy bear, Felix, right next to her.

Anamaria spotted him first when he was still a good twenty feet away. "Hey, stranger," she called out, smiling. At that, the little girl gasped and whipped her head around, sending her light blonde braids askew.

"DADDY!" she shouted, abandoning her work and racing towards him, her white sundress fluttering in the breeze.

Grinning wildly, he crouched down and easily caught her as she launched herself at him, her skinny arms and legs snaking around his neck and torso. He cuddled her close and kissed her cheek, walking them back towards Anamaria. "Hello, Lucy-Goosey," he whispered to his daughter. "Did you have a fun sleepover last night?"

"Uh-huh." She nodded against his shoulders. "How come I got to stay over so late today?"

"Because I knew how much fun you'd have with Auntie Ana and Captain Jack." Anamaria lifted her sun glasses and raised an eyebrow at him, causing his face to warm. "You, uh, you were a good girl for them, I hope?"

"She always is," Anamaria assured him.

"I always am," Lucy agreed modestly.

Will laughed and squeezed her one more time before letting her slide down to the sand. "Go get your bag inside. We'll go home and have lunch, ok?"

"Ok." Grabbing Felix, she scampered up the back deck into Jack's weathered but sizeable home. "By the way, we must have a talk, Daddy!" she shouted back on her way in.

"Oh Lord." Will ran a hand over his face, completely bemused. He looked down at Anamaria. "What kind of five-year old needs to have a talk?"

"Yours, Will, just yours."

"Thanks. And thanks for keeping her overnight." He turned his head back and forth. "Where's Jack?"

"Over there." Anamaria pointed further down the secluded beach to the large dock that jutted out from the other side of the house; two fishing boats and a small ketch were moored to it. "He saw your car pull in from the kitchen, grabbed a very full bottle of rum, and said he'd be below deck for a couple of days."

"Yeah, sorry about that," he apologized.

She snorted at him good-naturedly, going back to her magazine. "No, you're not. And we loved having her here for the whole night."

"Really?" Will asked disbelievingly.

"You bet we did. A whole night and a whole morning with that little girl – whom we both would give our lives for, by the way – was the best reminder ever to be vigilant with our birth control."

Rolling his eyes, he bent down to kiss the top of her flowing jet-black hair and passed her the keys to the flat. "Jack Sparrow is a lucky man."

"Well, if you would let yourself spend more than a few hours with a woman, you might find yourself getting the right kind of lucky someday, instead of the kind your used to. Although…" Anamaria's coal-colored eyes peered back up at him curiously. "You **did** stay until morning with this one."

Will shook his head, his sandals digging a bit into the sand. "She left to go catch her flight."

"And unlike every other hookup, you actually sound unhappy about that."

Will was saved from having to attempt to lie to the most perceptive woman in the world (because living with Jack Sparrow, how could she not be?) by the arrival of Lucy, her bright pink backpack hanging off her shoulders. "Thank Auntie Ana for taking you for the night," he told her when she reached his side.

"Thank you, Auntie Ana," Lucy parroted, hugging Anamaria with one arm, the other clutching Felix.

"You're very welcome, baby girl." Anamaria kissed her cheek and let her go. "Do you need me to pick her up from school at all this week?" she asked Will.

"No, I'm out by two every day. Thanks though." Taking Lucy's hand, he started walking back home.

"But I thought Jack said you were meeting with Christophe about taking on a job from him?" Will shook his head without turning around or stopping. "Sorry. Better luck next time."

"Don't need luck," he called back. "I have all my luck right here." He lifted a giggling Lucy back into arms, waving a backwards goodbye to Anamaria. Giving his full attention over to his child, he asked, "So what is this talk we need to have?"

"Well, you know what I remembered last night?"

"What?"

"My birthday is coming up so soon and we haven't made any plans yet."

"Okay, so we're now defining six months away as 'so soon', correct?"

"Correct," she nodded. "Guess what my idea was?"

"Pirates."

Lucy narrowed her hazel eyes at him, adorably belligerent. "How did you know that?"

"Because I'm your dad and I've got all your secrets locked up in m-my heart." Startled at how naturally he recalled one of the last things Elizabeth had said to him, he shook his head and pecked Lucy's sun kissed cheek. "And one of them is that you, Lucy Turner, love pirates more than you love anything. Except me."

"Well, actually, once in a while, like when you make me eat broccoli," she began, snickering, "I love pirates more -" Her laughter exploded in his ear and she wiggled mightily as he tickled her.

 _There we go_ , he thought as they entered their own house. _That's how it should be: No time for anything else but Lucy._

Yet even as he thought it, he knew once Lucy was safe in bed tonight Elizabeth would most definitely find her way into his dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: So a little something different with this one. This chapter is just Elizabeth's POV. I still think the majority of the chapter's will be split between them, but there might be some - like this one - where I only focus on one. Hope everyone with me in the states has a great Independence Day. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!**

* * *

Elizabeth wished for death. Any kind would do: stabbing, decapitation, even a bolt of lightning from the sky. So long as it was swift, she would take it to escape from this hellish torture.

"Alright, ladies, that was a great warm-up!" the militant cycling instructor called out to the full room affluent twenty-somethings, barely heard over the beats of music Elizabeth could feel throbbing into the base of her skull as she panted, slumped over her stationary bike. "Now let's get in gear and get fit! Are you ladies ready?"

"No," Elizabeth heard herself moan quietly. She started peddling slowly when the music kicked up a notch and her spin cycle class officially began, grateful that she was in the back of the mirrored room.

"Oh, come on now, woman," Bria said from her perch next her, breathing heavily as her pace far exceeded her friend's. "This is nothing. Mila up there," she indicated to their instructor who had nary a hair out of place, even in the stifling conditions, "is an absolute cakewalk compared to Josie."

Already red-faced and starting to perspire, Elizabeth could only manage, "Bria, shut it."

As the class wore on, it took all of Elizabeth's efforts to merely stay on the bike. Every muscle in her body ached, the sweat clinging to her every pore, and her stomach churned as the minutes dragged. She started to again ponder how much a blessing death would be right now. But she was young. She was in the prime of her life. She'd get through this class – no matter how much it pained her – and wait until she was safe at her own flat from Bria's teasing before climbing back into bed. That was the plan and Elizabeth was quite keen on it. Only a few minutes late, when the spandex-covered backs of the women in front of her began to blur, did Elizabeth finally force herself to stop, admitting failure. With shaking hands, she took a long drink of water from her bottle and gingerly stepped off the bike with halting steps until she reached the glass doors, pushing them open to get into the main area of the private health club she belonged to. Collapsing on a nearby padded bench, she leaned her head back against a wall and closed her eyes.

 _I need sleep,_ she told herself. _Bria wasn't kidding; these eighteen hour days are ghastly. How do people twice my age do this?_

Her career in law hadn't gotten off to a promising start. To be sure, thanks to her father's numerous connections, she had begun an apprenticeship with a rather prestigious group of solicitors that focused exclusively on the tax and business interests of corporations and wealthy individuals. The pay and benefits were outstanding, as was the unconcealed pride in her father's voice whenever he inquired about her practice, but the work itself was…there was no other way to describe it other than dull. Utterly dull and dry of any kind of excitement. Elizabeth spent much of her day either cloistered in a closet of an office proofing contracts, attending more classes with the Law Society, or accompanying her superiors to various meetings that she struggled to stay awake in. Even though it had been at her father's strong urging to practice law, Elizabeth had tried to keep the hope alive that she'd be able to find some gratification and completion through her work. If her first several weeks were to be the rule as opposed to the exception, then she was very much up a creek without a paddle.

A cool hand on her forehead made her open her eyes. Bria stood over her with their coats in her other hand and both of their gym bags on her shoulder. "No fever," she said critically, "but you look absolutely dreadful, dear Lizzie.

"I love you, too." Groaning, she pushed her sore frame upright and wrapped herself in her coat as the pair walked out into the bustling city street. London was just beginning to come alive with spring as April was nearly halfway over and Elizabeth could let herself enjoy the floral hints seeping into the air from the fresh-cut flowers vendors were selling outside various shops. It was cool, yet still sunny, and she wished for the world that she was laying on a blanket in Hyde Park reading a book instead of walking back to Bria's townhouse for breakfast. That sounded like the perfect medicine to her, for both how she felt physically and the general malaise she had found herself mired in the past few weeks.

"So, how's work been lately?" Bria asked, checking her phone for messages. At Elizabeth's silence, Bria glanced over and caught her stony demeanor. "Ah, a nonstop fun free-for-all. I see."

Elizabeth grumbled, pulling her coat tighter across her thin frame. "I don't understand. In all my studies, exams, and lectures no one ever bothered to explain how pedantic business law really is."

"Because if they did, no one would ever want to practice it. The whole system would collapse, the economy would be a fond memory, and we'd go back to using animals for food, currency, and unmentionable things."

"I really need to talk to Father about this," Elizabeth continued, ignoring Bria's dark humor.

"About what? You being unhappy about something in your life that he thinks is what's best for you?" Bria's lips started to curl up in amusement until she caught a glimpse of Elizabeth's frown; immediately she pulled her face into neutral. "Oh, uh, well then you should. With all due haste."

"If I was truly unhappy – which I'm not saying I am – Father wouldn't want me to say silent about that," Elizabeth said defensively.

"Of course, he wouldn't," Bria quickly assured her.

Much too quickly for Elizabeth's liking. Letting the dangerous subject lie, she continued, "Maybe I should switch fields and join you in family law."

"Oh no, no, no." Bria immediately shook her head and linked their arms together. "Speaking as a proud harbinger of destruction and desolation, you are nowhere near heartless enough for family law and divorce proceedings."

Elizabeth was incredulous at that. "You have to be heartless trying to advocate for the welfare of young children?"

"You do." Bria looked at her meaningfully. "There's only so many times your heart can break before there's nothing left of it to put back together." With that they walked in silence until they reached the stately white townhouse; the ivy was creeping up along the walls and the flowers starting to bloom in the trellises on all three stories. Dragging her heavy limbs up the steps, Elizabeth lacked the strength to politely hang her coat. She let it fall to the floor as the last of her reserves drained and she turned left into the living room, plummeting onto the plush burgundy sofa without even taking off her sneakers or coat. Bria knelt beside her at once. "Elizabeth, really, what's wrong?"

"I hate everything," she said pitifully, curling into herself even further.

Bria smoothed her friend's back from her pale face and bit back a smile. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. I hate my job. I hate exercising. I hate how my body is falling apart. I hate how quiet my flat is, even though I'm never in it because of the job I hate. I hate you…"

"Why? What did I do?"

"You set me up with that guy two weeks ago who tried to get the waitress's phone number in front of me!"

"Ah yes, Paolo. He's a cheeky monkey."

"He's a cretin."

"Well, I was just trying to get you out of that quiet flat of yours for one night. Forgive me for not finding you someone up to the standard of Sexy Bar Man," Bria apologized with dripping sarcasm before patting her shoulder and standing up. Even in her weakened state, Elizabeth's stomach fluttered a little pleasantly at the reminder of that one incredible night. "I'm making you breakfast. You need to eat something."

"Ugh…food. That's another thing I hate…"

"Too bad. Just lie back and think of crown and country while you're eating it." Lightly maneuvering Elizabeth out of the jacket and shoes, Bria covered her with a fleece sitting on the armchair. "Or if you'd like," she said as she left for the kitchen, "just lie back and think of Sexy Bar Man."

"His name was Will," Elizabeth murmured into the cushions, giving into a fitful sleep. "Will Turner."

 _I don't hate him…_

Since her flight had touched down at Heathrow all those weeks ago, there had been a disconnect in her life that had no rival. Even a transatlantic ride in first-class hadn't done enough to dim her memories of their night together and she could scarcely look her dear father in the eye as he embraced her when she disembarked. As February became March, and March faded into April, her rare smiles occurred when she remembered a silly joke he had made as they shared a drink at the Black Pearl or how nervous he appeared when he first offered her a ride home the following morning. Of course, what she remembered about him in the rare free hours she had at night, alone in her bed, made her do things she could never mention to anyone, no matter if she was Three or Thirteen Drink Lizzie. It was madness. She couldn't get Will out of her mind. It was as if he had burrowed into a part of her consciousness and made a home for himself there. Elizabeth had no frame of reference for how to handle something like this; less than twelve hours in his company and everything in her life had shifted on its axis. It wasn't healthy, mentally or emotionally, and over the last week or so, she feared that it was extending to the physical. The flu that wasn't the flu knocked her down and kept her from taking any control back over her wayward feelings from one perfect night. Because even as much as she wanted to deny it, it had been a perfect night. **He** had been perfect.

Only she knew next to nothing about him, except that he seemed to be well-versed in casual sex.

And she had no way to contact him.

Also, he lived literally an ocean away from her.

 _Well, other than those minor details, he was absolute perfection…_

For the second time that morning, Bria's hand brought her out of her musings. Grabbing a hold of her elbow, Bria hauled an unwilling Elizabeth into a sitting position and plopped down beside her. "Come on, time to eat."

"I'm really not hungry, Bria," Elizabeth tried to protest, her body screaming as it left the cocoon of the blanket.

"Yeah, well I'm really not caring. You look like Death. I love you madly, and I'll shove this food down your bloody throat if you make me."

Elizabeth attempted to rub the sleep from her eyes, groaning at her friend's stubborn streak. "Scottish love is very strange and brutal."

"After twenty years with me, you're just realizing this?" Bria kissed the side of her head and put an arm around her shoulder, hugging her with one arm as she picked up the remote and turned on the television, ready to indulge in a chick-flick breakfast. Elizabeth basked in her protectiveness for a moment before pulling away, ready to get the meal over with if it made Bria back off for a bit.

While Elizabeth slept, Bria had laid out a small spread on the coffee table in front of the sofa: two cups of tea and two glasses of orange juice; a plate of wheat toast and bacon; two bowls of sliced cantaloupe and strawberries; and finally, eggs for each them. As always, Elizabeth was given an omelet with just a bit of ham while Bria liked hers over-easy and runny.

Looking at the plates, Elizabeth's eyes were immediately glued to the viscous pile of white and yellow on Bria's. They had eaten breakfast together hundreds of times and she had seen eggs like that nearly every time. Never, though, had her stomach seized so violently at the sight or smell, threatening to tear in two on the spot.

"Lizzie, what's -?"

With speed that could have snagged her a spot at the Olympic trials, Elizabeth leapt over Bria and raced on instinct towards the kitchen, knowing the closest bathroom was too far away. Falling over the polished chrome sink, she vomited and gagged a mouthful of bile into it, her arms barely strong enough to support her. Another wave of nausea rolled over a minute later as her entire body shook, but thankfully it passed as quickly as it came. When she was finally sure her stomach was empty, she just barely managed to turn the faucet on and off to wash the mess away before she slunk down to floor.

 _Oh, sweet Death, please take me now._

After a few minutes (or maybe – as it felt to her – days) Elizabeth could open her eyes enough to find Bria peering down on her with a look that was simultaneously shrouded in disbelief and keen understanding. "I'm sorry," she apologized feebly. "I'll…I'll clean it in a minute. I just need -"

"When was your last period?"

Elizabeth shook her head, not sure what she'd heard. "What?"

"Your last period. When was it?"

Bria might as well have asked for an explanation of the universe, for all the comprehension Elizabeth was capable of. "Before vacation," she finally replied, the fogginess in brain only abating slightly. "Remember? I was so excited about going on the beach and…" Elizabeth lost her train of thought and wanted for all the wishes in the world to go back to sleep against the mahogany cabinets. She would have, too, if not for Bria.

"You are an effing numpty," Bria growled. Flinging the refrigerator open, she grabbed a bottle of water before going to Elizabeth and dragging her forcibly from the ground, manhandling her back through the foyer.

She wasn't even strong enough to try to lock her body into any kind of resistance. "Ouch! Bria, what are you doing?"

Instead of giving her an adequate reply, she simply shoved the water back at Elizabeth as she led them up the wide staircase. "Here, start drinking this."

"Why?"

"Because I said to and as we'll probably establish in a few moments, you are an **exceedingly** stupid person and you need to be told what to do by me, a much smarter person. So, drink." They reached the landing and Bria steered them to the master bedroom, sitting Elizabeth on the four-poster bed before going into the adjoining bathroom and rifling through the drawers underneath the basin.

Something in Elizabeth's mind – perhaps the one synapse adept enough to still handle logic – could see that Bria was on to something, but she had no idea what this elusive "something" was and she was, frankly, too tired to care. Without worrying, Elizabeth started to fall back against the luxurious bedspread. As soon as her head hit the mattress, it immediately snapped back up when Bria returned and grabbed the strap of Elizabeth's form-fitting tank top, yanking her up. "Start drinking that right now," she ordered, pointing to the discarded water.

"Bria, for god's sake, you are not my mother and I just want to…" Elizabeth stopped speaking when Bria's face blanched. Exhausted, cold, and so very tired, Elizabeth was on the verge of a full-on meltdown. "What the hell is going on?!"

Bria open her moth and then closed it just as quickly. She repeated the process twice before she finally sighed and put a thin, rectangular box in Elizabeth's hand. "Drink the water, Lizzie," was all she could say.

Elizabeth stared down feebly at the object. It wasn't a bomb or a gun or a ransom demand; it was just a simple home pregnancy test that she had walked by countless times whenever she was at the chemist. It shouldn't have terrified her as much as any of those other things, but as she kept staring down at it with unseeing eyes, a fear she had never known gripped her mind, body, and soul.

"Sexy Bar Man," Bria whispered as supportively as she could manage under the circumstances. "Eight weeks ago. You're tired, moody as anything, sick to your stomach, no period. I mean…T-There's at least probably a chance you're…"

 _No! No! No! No, please God, no!_

Her head screamed and thrashed back at Bria's rational conclusions. There was an answer to all this confusion that she wound find. Every other piece that made her up, though, was frozen in shock. When her breathing started to hitch and tremble, Bria sat down next to her and pulled her close. She tucked Elizabeth's head underneath her chin and rubbed her back, as she had done when all manner of disasters had come into their path over the years. "Lizzie?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"Lizzie, you need to drink the water."

Elizabeth tried to. She really did, but there was nothing on this Earth that could get her to move from her best friend's hold. The tears began rolling down her cheeks and she clung to Bria, her one piece of salvage amidst this stormy tempest. This couldn't be happening. This was not at all possible. That night had been perfect. **He** had been perfect.

This…This was not perfect. This was chaos and madness and a level of insanity that Elizabeth had never imagined.

Waiting until the tears began to ebb, Bria gently unfolded Elizabeth from their embrace. She took the test out of sight and opened the bottle of water, wrapping it in Elizabeth's nerveless fingers. "I know you're scared," she began slowly. "There's nothing I can do or say that'll make this easier, except that until you take the test we don't know what we're dealing with. So, you're going to drink that until you can take the test and we'll go from there. Okay?"

And somehow, with those very simple, practical words, Elizabeth did feel a bit better. Not any less panicked or terrified, but just a little better because she wasn't alone. She had Bria, like always, and facing anything with her was infinitely better than not. Her hands still shaking, Elizabeth began sipping the water, Bria's hand steadily moving up and down her spine. When it was time, Bria handed her a stopwatch from the bedside table.

"I had a date last Tuesday. He tried to break one of my personal records." At Elizabeth's stare, Bria shrugged nonchalantly. "He wanted to see how long it took him to make me -"

"Oh, dear God!"

Bria winked, curving her lips in a half smile. "Four minutes, twenty-eight seconds. Didn't break the record."

An impossible bubble of laughter escaped Elizabeth's lips and the pressure in her chest eased slightly. Not much. Just enough at her outlandish friend, her impossible girl. No wonder Bria had a pregnancy test at the ready. Gathering her courage, she took the test in the bathroom; closing the door behind her, she used it as precisely as possible, doing her level best to imagine herself anywhere else except the lilac-tiled room. She tried sitting on the lip of the claw-footed tub as she waited the requisite three minutes, her eyes bolted to the white strip of plastic, but staying still soon became an impossibility so she slowly paced the six steps of the room.

 _It'll be negative_ , she told herself, wringing her hands. _It must be negative. There's no other option. You're single, you work crazy hours, you live in a one-bedroom flat, you've never even had a pet hamster. There's no way that you can have a...be pregnant. And…And that's that. You're not pregnant. It's going to be negative. It's going to be –_

The stopwatch beeped and Elizabeth halted. Without looking at the test, she left the room and shut the door firmly behind her, pressing her back tight against it.

Bria was still sitting on the bed, one foot tapping relentlessly against the floor. "Well?" she asked when Elizabeth said nothing.

"I-I-I don't know."

"Alright, did it look more like a plus or a minus?"

"I didn't look at it. I can't."

"Lizzie, you have -"

"Please can you just…I swear I'll never ask you for anything again if you just look for me," Elizabeth begged.

Bria walked over to stand in front of her. "Sweetie, it'll be fine, no matter what it says.

"I'll…I'll clean your house once a week for the next hundred years," Elizabeth offered desperately. "I'll make you sticky toffee brownies until you can't leave the bed anymore."

"Lizzie…"

"My purse! That one you love, you can have it!"

"Which one?"

"All of them, Bria, all of them! Just please go in there and…"

"Lizzie," Bria said again, taking Elizabeth's cheeks in her hands and making their eyes meet. "I love you more than ninety-eight percent of my blood relatives. I would murder for you without asking a question and die for you with no regrets. You know that, right?"

"I do."

"Good. So, that being said, there is just absolutely no chance in hell that I can touch something that you peed on. I'm sorry, but that's a deal breaker for me."

Elizabeth sighed, nodding in understanding. "No, you're right. That's fair. Can…Can you please come in with me?"

"I'm enraged that you thought you needed to ask."

Together, they opened the door and inched their way inside to the sink, like two well-endowed bints in a horror movie checking to see if the monster was actually dead. Taking a deep breath and feeling Bria's hands squeezing her shoulders, Elizabeth reached out to take the test, her hand quivering, and looked down. She blinked once, twice, and maybe fifty more times before she could speak. "Bria?"

"Yeah?" her friend replied, sounding to Elizabeth as if she were miles under water.

"I didn't read the instructions. What did the plus sign mean again?" Without meaning to, Elizabeth's wide eyes fell down to her stomach and her tears began anew.

Bria's arms wrapped across her torso. She leaned in close enough to touch Elizabeth's wet cheek to hers and whispered softly, "It means that you and Sexy Bar Man are really bad at safe sex."

 _Oh God…W-What have I done?_

She was still asking herself that hours later back in her own bedroom, propped up against the pillows of her bed, clad in her soft pajama bottoms and her favorite sweatshirt. A steady spring rain had started falling when they had left Bria's house hours ago and hadn't let up as they settled into evening. Afraid Elizabeth had been going into some form of shock when she failed to respond to any of Bria's questions or ideas at the townhouse, Bria had felt it best to take them back to Elizabeth's flat, hoping the familiarity and comfort of being around her own things would snap her out of her stupor. It had taken a bit of urging and coaxing, but once Bria had gotten her into a warm bath, she had felt enough of her sanity return to her to start speaking. Her first request? Takeaway from her favorite Italian place, which Bria was paying for at the door. After the day she'd had, Elizabeth thought a little indulgence in the form of grilled chicken alfredo pasta wouldn't be out of line.

Besides, she was going to get pudgy and porky soon enough. Might as well get a jump on it.

It was only when Bria entered the room with a tray of offerings – bowls of steaming pasta, warm garlic bread, and ginger ale – looking at her quizzically, that Elizabeth realized she was giggling. "What did I miss?" she asked, sitting cross-legged beside her friend, the red of her hair clashing with the exposed brick walls

"Nothing," Elizabeth said, shaking her aching head. "Just…funny thoughts." They busied themselves with eating for a few moments before she felt strong enough to say what had weighed on her since the bathroom. "I don't think…I don't I could not have it. You know what I mean?"

"I do."

"I just don't see how I **can** have it, either. And those are my only options, aren't they?"

"What about adoption? I meet couples every day that are frantic for babies from healthy, sensible women like you."

"So, I just grow a human being inside of me for almost a year, give it away to people who are putting on their best face to get something they want, and hope everything works out in the end?"

"There's a trifle bit more nuance to it than that, Lizzie."

"I'm sure you're right. I just…"

"Just what?"

 _I just can't. I absolutely can't imagine not keeping it…._

She could think the words, but she couldn't say them out loud because she truly didn't understand them. She understood nothing about anything and anyone in her life since looking at that stupid test. To Elizabeth, when she had thought of it, adoption had always been a gracious – though difficult – act of love that a woman could give to a child she couldn't care for. Abortion was also something that, again while difficult, she had never had a moral objection to. Yet when those these choices were now available to **her** instead of just nameless, faceless masses of other women, both choices were so unpalatable as to make her shudder. And that left her only one option.

It just happened to be the one that couldn't wrap her head around.

"I'd never get away with it," she finally answered Bria's question, twirling a length of pasta slowly around her fork.

Bria nodded in agreement. "That's true. Can't send you off to live with your sick aunt for seven months." She bent over to reach her bag on the floor and pulled out a yellow legal pad and pen. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she started writing. "Okay, so if you're having it we need to start making plans: first things first, you need to see a doctor. Get everything confirmed and official, prenatal vitamins, list of dos and do nots, the whole shebang. I can get the best names for you and help you bypass the waiting list."

It felt good to let Bria take control over this. Elizabeth knew it wouldn't last; in short order, the chaos would encroach again, but for now it felt good to let someone who wasn't her plan out her messy life. "Right," she said around a mouthful of food.

"When that's settled, we'll figure out your maternity leave and pay from work. The earlier you get these sorted out with your boss, the better. The leave you get a full year if you want, but you don't have to. You're required to take at least two weeks after the birth and you can start it I think as early as ten weeks before your due date. Statutory Maternity Pay can be a little trickier because it's based on your earnings. We can worry about that later, though."

"Ok."

"Probably want to look for a new place." Bria glanced around the room and shrugged. "Or maybe not. The bairn can bunk in here for a bit. You don't want to upend everything in your world all at once."

"No, we would not want that."

"Then we get to break the news to your dad." Bria chuckled humorless, scrutinizing her list. "That'll be fun."

The fork halted halfway to Elizabeth's mouth, suspended as one word blared over and over into the forefront of her mind:

Father.

 _Father…How can I…He'll never…What will he…This is impossible!_

Putting her food down, Elizabeth leapt from the bed and strode out of the room, straight into the spacious living area, before making a beeline towards the cozy blue cabinets and butcherblock island of her kitchen. That island was the whole reason she had settled on this flat a year ago and despite the fact that her father thought (rather vocally and often) she had long since outgrown the space since leaving university, she couldn't imagine finding a kitchen she'd love anymore in any other home in the world. It was her own little nook of peace; her one haven when the pressures she foisted on her shoulders became almost unbearable; the one place she could be and do the things she loved with no one judging her or asking why. Taking a shaky breath, she flicked the knob of her oven on and went about gathering her mixing bowls, spoons, and pans from their spots. When those were organized, she pulled down the flour, then the baking soda and powder, the butter, the sugar…all the necessities she needed to make the magic she desired.

She was already measuring and blending the cocoa with the other dry ingredients when Bria joined her, perching on of the kitchen stools across from her with her notepad. "Sorry, I should have eased into mentioning your dad a bit more."

"How am I going to explain this him?" Elizabeth asked, her voice barely controlled hysteria. "A…An out-of-wedlock pregnancy? He'll never look at me again."

"Of course, he will. He just might need a bit of time."

"Like what? Eighteen years? Think he'll be okay with it by then?" She attacked the sugar, eggs and vanilla with a whisk, punishing them brutally.

"Maybe give him an even twenty to be on the safe side?" The measuring cup clattered to floor as Elizabeth slammed her hand down beside it and Bria held her own up in defense. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Lousy joke."

"This isn't funny, Bria." Amazingly, Elizabeth found she still had tears to shed. "He's never going to forgive me for this. For ruining his plans for me. For ruining his reputation." Doubt seized her at the idea of shaming him and she could feel her breath straining in her lungs. From a distance, she heard herself say, "Maybe I shouldn't…" The words died in her throat and she turned back to her baking – her one peace – adding butter to a warm pan on the stove, watching as it slowly melted.

Bria left her to her thoughts and baking for moment. "Do you really want to have an abortion?" she asked after a few moments.

Elizabeth's answer was whispered, but it was immediate. "No."

"Then you can't. Because it's not something that can ever be undone."

"I know." And she did know that, truly and wholly. However, the very idea of doing something that would completely shock and upset her father, though, was so unconceivable to Elizabeth after so many years of programming herself to measure her life against his expectations and desires. To do anything else…she'd sooner peel her flesh from bone bit by bit. But she'd have to find a way. She'd have to find a strength she'd never felt if she was going to carry on with this pregnancy.

 _I have to._

Simple as it was, it was the truth; maybe the greatest truth she'd ever know. It was just so incredibly complicated.

When the butter was finally ready, she gently mixed in the wet ingredients before beating in the dry ones. "What do you want on top of the brownies?" she asked Bria.

"Whatever you want, my dear Lizzie." With penetrating eyes, she continued, "Because that's what it's all about now: what **you** want."

 _Well, that's a lot easier said than done_ , Elizabeth replied in her head. Out loud she merely said, "Butterscotch chips." A small smile played at her lips. "With cream cheese frosting."

"Heavenly and decadent. I like it." Her phone buzzed from her pocket and she checked it quickly, huffing loudly. "For fuck's sake, you have got to be kidding me."

"What?"

"I have to go." Hurrying in and out of the bedroom, she had her bag in her hand and stuffed her notepad back in it. "My bloody git of a client is getting married next week and he decides at seven-thirty on a Saturday night to redo his entire prenup. I will be in the office for the next six days trying to get this sorted."

"It can't wait until Monday?" Elizabeth asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not for what he's paying me by the hour." Coming around, Bria hugged her. "You're okay, right? I'm not abandoning you?"

"Never. You're aces." Letting her go, Elizabeth turned back to her bowl, pouring the mix in a pan. "I'll just enjoy all these brownies myself while you rip contracts up into confetti."

"That sounds like – OH! Damn it! I almost forget!" Pulling her notepad out again, she scribbled something quickly on the bottom before putting it back in the bag. "We need to have a chat soon, a lawyer/client chat, not a bestie one."

"About what?"

"Tracking down Sexy Bar Man so he can sign the paperwork terminating his rights to…that," Bria said, gesturing towards Elizabeth stomach.

"W-What?"

"Signing his rights away so he doesn't have any legal claims once you pop the bairn out," she explained, as if talking about the weather or seeing a movie. Hustling through the living room, Bria grabbed her jacket and slipped it on, her back towards Elizabeth. "He probably won't pay child support, but you can afford to have him not to. I mean, you live in London with a respectable job and family name; he lives on a tropical island across the ocean and uses a grungy little flat over a nightclub for one-night stands. Believe me, this is not the man you want having any influence over your progeny." Elizabeth gaped at her, unable to make her mouth move. So consumed she had been since looking at that stick, she hadn't given him any thought at all. "And don't worry about having an awkward conversation with him over the phone. I can have him tracked down. Then I'll handle everything with him and his representative. You never even have to speak to him again." Not noticing her friend's growing distress, Bria came over for one more hug. "I'll call you later. We'll get this Sexy Bar Man business taken care of and then spend the next seven months getting you ready for this big adventure."

It wasn't until Bria reached the door that Elizabeth regained her use of speech. "Will," she called out softly. Bria frowned and Elizabeth hurried to continue, "Uh, William Turner. His name is William Turner."

"Oh, you remembered. Good. Well, that'll go much better on the contracts." Blowing a quick kiss, Bria left the flat and Elizabeth was all alone.

Except she wasn't. Looking down, she saw that her hand was resting over her stomach. She realized it had been for some time and that no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't take it off.

 _He's just…He's just going to get a bloody phone call out of nowhere and have someone tell him that he's a…that he's going to be…only he's not because I don't want him around for any of it? How can I do that!?_

He had sat next to her. He had kissed her until her lips felt bruised. He had made her body and spirit come alive in way she hadn't thought possible. He had held her through the night instead of leaving a note. He had offered her a ride instead of cab fare. He had gotten her…

 **He** was growing inside of her right now and she was just supposed to have someone else tell him?

Shaking her head, she threw her unfinished brownies in the trash bin, turned off the oven, and went back into her room. Going to her desk, she opened her laptop and began searching for flights.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone for all their great responses, it's really gratifying. My chapters are starting to get a bit longer and I don't know how this will effect updates. I hope to still try for at least once a week. Since Elizabeth had all the fun last chapter, it's Will's turn. Enjoy!**

* * *

The song blasting from the radio was driving Will crazy; nothing but echoing drumbeats and caterwauling. It was the only reason he forced his weary body out of the bed and crossed to the other side of his cluttered bedroom to the dresser, shutting the alarm off. The red numbers on the clock told him it was just past six in the morning and he groaned heavily.

 _Someday I'm going to wake up when_ _ **I**_ _feel like it,_ he thought, stumbling as quietly as he could into the hallway. _Just another thirteen years or so._

Peeking inside Lucy's room, he saw her still nestled among the covers, snoring softly with Felix tucked tight against her while her other stuffed animals sat at the end of the bed, always standing guard. At once, the prospect of sleeping until midmorning held little appeal to him if it meant his daughter wasn't near enough to him anymore. He eased the door shut behind him and continued into the bathroom to start his day.

Wrapping a towel around himself after his hurried shower, Will looked in the mirror. Unlike the majority of other twenty-five years-old's, this was his only time to himself throughout the day until he passed out in bed at night, sometimes at two or three in the morning. Every other moment was devoted to Lucy or working; even on the rare occasions he could let himself relax a bit, he was still around people. It left him very few chances to pause and take stock, which was probably for the best. Most of the time, he felt to be barely holding things together. Days were a series of continual moments of bedlam that never stopped, no matter what he did. But even as difficult as it was, Will would never let himself feel discouraged with how things had turned out.

He had Lucy. He got to see her grow every day, love her every day, and that was worth double any hardship we could ever imagine.

Smiling and nodding slightly at his reflection, he threw on a worn Henley and long khaki shorts, quickly pulling his dark brown hair back. Biting down on a yawn, he walked out the front door of his small home, (reminding himself again that he needed to pick a weekend to repaint the fading white clapboards) heading down the porch and across the sparse grass of the front yard to his locked work shed. He glanced to his left and saw in the growing sunlight that both Jack and Anamaria had already left for work. Or, probably, Anamaria had left for work and Jack was still sleeping at the club after a night spent partying and carousing.

 _A pirate's life for him_ , Will thought of his oldest friend, grinning. Would he trust Jack with his own life or – much more precious to him – Lucy's life? In less than a heartbeat. Would he trust Jack to hold a hundred dollars for him or get him to an airport on time? Never in a million years. Such was the nature of the enigmatic Captain Sparrow, a man who had never served for any nation on sea or shore and still had the gall to give himself a title; Jack's own interests were always the most sacred, but when the line was drawn in the sand he could be counted on. Thankfully for all who knew him, he had had Anamaria with him for the last ten years or so to balance out Jack's innumerable quirks.

As he gathered his tools from the shed into his toolbox, it was easy for him to remember how much Jack had changed since he had first met the man. After the passing of his mother when he was twelve, Will left England for good, using what little remained of their paltry savings after paying off numerous debts to gather what he needed for the journey to the Caribbean. He had no desire to stay in the country of his birth. There were no relatives or close friends there and whatever fond memories he may have once had of the island were replaced by the ones of watching his mother wither away for years before the cancer finally claimed her. The prospect of wasting away the rest of his youth in a group home or foster care held little appeal so the first chance he had to slip away from the watchful of eyes of the state, he took it and made his way to his one hope of finding someone who would be willing to care for him: the dockyards.

Will didn't hold many memories of his father, but the few he did have of "Bootstrap" Bill Turner all involved one thing: the sea. The last post he and his mother had received from him had been six months before, sent from the Caribbean port town of Arbor Bay that neither of them had ever heard of. Lucky for Will, there were shipwrights and crewmen at the docks who had heard of it and, even better, remembered his father enough to smuggle him aboard a freighter. The journey took several weeks, the ship making port at several stops along the way, and in that time, he found himself falling in love with the one thing he knew his mother had always prayed he wouldn't: the sea. She had always felt the hold it had on her estranged husband had led to his abandonment of the two of them and as much as Will tried to resist it's calling to honor her wishes, it was for naught. The temptation from the undulating waves home to infinite majestic creatures, to the winds coated with the tangy scent of salt, to the borderless sky surrounding him were all too powerful to resist. He wanted to be on the waters as much as possible and to do that, he quickly understood that his education must be that of ships and boats. He begged any member of the crew to teach him of life on a ship: steering, engines, maintenance, hull repairs, cleaning, navigation…Will soaked it all in with the eagerness of a scholar. Even at night when the longing for his mother's touch and gentle voice pressed down on his heart, he took comfort in the fact that with all he was learning, he could forge a strong bond with the one parent he had left in this world.

If only that parent had wanted to be one.

When they finally docked in Arbor Bay, the warm breezes kissing his cheeks as if to welcome him home, he set out to find his father. The name Bootstrap was familiar to many of the regulars on the numerous fishing boats, but none had seen him in at least three months. They did give him the name of someone who might know where his father was: Jack Sparrow. Will tracked him down at a rundown heap of a bar; one hand holding a bottle of rum, the other placed rather indiscreetly around the waist of a woman only slightly less made up than the man himself. Somehow, he was coherent enough to both hear Will's story and believe him. Jack brought him back to his sprawling cottage right on the shore of a remote beach, regaling him in that uniquely baroque tone the whole way with tales of adventures and near-death experiences that even at twelve, Will was wise enough to not believe. Most of them, anyways. However, none of these tales involved his father and when Will finally worked up the courage to ask about the man as they sat down to a thrown together dinner of beans and toast, Jack turned as serious as he was capable of when he answered:

"Truth be told, whelp, haven't heard from Bootstrap in quite a long while. He'll come 'round eventually, though. 'Till then, you're welcome to stay here so long as you don't do anything stupid and don't be causing me any trouble."

There was no reason Will should have trusted this man: the flamboyant outfit, the dreadlocks, the filthy hands and face, the slumped posture of someone who drank more alcohol than water. Had his mother still been alive and seen him on the street, she would have steered Will around him as quickly as possible. Yet there was something in those glazed eyes that Will – still with enough traces of childhood faith – was able to see: Jack was a good man and if he couldn't have his father, he'd take a good man in his place.

Lost in the past, Will didn't realize he had finished packing and loading his work tools into his car until he heard himself close the trunk. Gathering himself, he made his way back inside to get breakfast started before Lucy woke up. With almost six years of parenting under his belt, he had mastered the essentials: fully-cooked eggs, unburnt toast, cereal with enough room in the bowl so it wouldn't overflow, and a piece of fruit. On weekends, as a treat, Will was even able to create slightly lumpy pancakes. Thankfully, he had been blessed with perhaps the least fussy child ever created. Lucy was happy when her stomach was full and he was happy when she was.

He was just finishing putting the eggs on their plates when she wandered into their tiny kitchen, her pajamas nearly as rumpled as her long blonde hair. "Good morning, Daddy," she said, wrapping her arms around his legs.

"Morning, sweetheart. Have a good night's sleep?"

"Uh-huh. Guess what I dreamt about?"

"Hmm, let me think…" Nudging her slightly, he set their plates on the table and began buttering their toast. "Iguanas playing a game of cricket?"

"Nope."

"A storm cloud that rained peppermint candy?"

"No," she giggled as she pulled open the fridge door crowded with her artwork and stretched inside to reach the orange juice.

He turned and snapped his fingers playfully. "Wait, I've got it! The one thing every child dreams of: a whole summer filled with nothing except schoolwork and house chores."

"No!" Laughing outright, she climbed into her chair with the orange juice, knelt on it, and reached for her plastic cup. Furrowing her brow in concentration, Will watched out of the corner of his eye as she slowly filled her cup. "I dreamt we were somewhere that had Christmas trees everywhere!"

"Christmas trees, eh?"

"All kinds: tall and small ones, skinny ones, big fat ones, and all of them were decorated differently. One of them was even made of licorice ropes with gummies for ornaments. It was the best!" Putting the cap on the juice, she got down and put it away before sitting again, tucking into her plate as her father looked on with barely concealed pride. It made him ache a bit sometimes at how independent she was getting lately, but he forced himself to take comfort in the fact that she'd always find a way to take care of herself. Her self-reliance was a character trait she'd, mercifully, been born with, not one she'd had to earn like he had.

He brought her toast to her, placing a long kiss on the crown of her head. "That sounds like a top-notch dream, Lucy-Goosey." When she started to eat it, Will gently tapped her knuckles with two fingers. "Manners, young lady."

"Sorry. Thank you," she told him before taking a big bite out of her toast. Getting the rest of his own breakfast, he joined her at the table barely big enough to hold the two of them as they ate in companionable silence for a bit. He was taking a sip of his coffee when she suddenly asked, "What do you dream about, Daddy?"

He choked on the hot liquid as his mind forcefully brought up an image of Elizabeth Swann splayed out on his bed, wearing little else but a smile. Swallowing and coughing, he keenly avoided his daughter's wide eyes as he went to the sink and drank a quick handful of water to clear away the burning. "Well, that coffee was much too hot," he murmured as he sat back down. "I almost lost my tongue."

Will could practically see a thought forming over her head and he braced himself, making sure there was nothing in his mouth this time that could potentially kill him. "Do you think that's how Mr. Cotton lost his tongue? From drinking really hot coffee?" she finally asked.

"I'm…not sure," he replied, barely holding in his sigh of relief. "We wouldn't want to ask him, though. It might make him uncomfortable or angry."

She nodded with her whole head in understanding. "I won't. Then he might not let me feed his parrot anymore," she said, perfectly serious.

He reached over, lightly ruffling her hair. "Like anyone could ever say no to you." Catching a glimpse of the clock, he realized they had to get moving. "Alright, time to get dressed. Is your schoolbag packed?"

"Uh-huh." With one last sip of her juice, she raced off to her room, her feet pattering against the wood floors and leaving her father alone with his thoughts.

 _And what thoughts they are_ , he reflected wearily, setting about to clean up the dishes and throw together Lucy's school lunch.

It had been two months since he had seen Elizabeth; two months since his lips had touched hers; two months since he'd spent the wee hours of the morning watching her sleep, utterly enthralled, and it was driving him to his wit's end. It had been one night, a single night of his life. Why should it matter so much to him? Why did he remember it almost as well as he remembered some of his most seminal moments, like his trip across the ocean from England or the day Lucy took her first steps? Why even after all this time did Elizabeth make so many regular appearances in his fantasies? Why, when he awoke from them and saw she wasn't lying next to him, did his heart lurch just the tiniest bit? He was disgusted with himself. If he had known as he watched her that night, sipping her drink and looking so adrift, that she'd have such a lasting effect on him to the point where it was beginning to make it difficult to muddle through his daily responsibilities, he wouldn't have gone anywhere near her.

 _Liar!_

He pinched the bridge of his nose, tired of his subconscious constantly scolding him and tired of trying to make sense of what he had been feeling. Zipping his daughter's lunch bag shut, he let himself – in this one moment of exposure – acknowledge the truth: in a lifetime of being disappointed by people, Will knew the barricade he had built up around himself was nearly impenetrable. Only a few, most especially Lucy, had ever gotten through and within a span of hours, somehow, Elizabeth had become one as well. A connection he hadn't been looking for materialized before he even realized he should have tried to prevent it. Without much effort, he could have easily seen himself giving her a ride somewhere the morning after…taking her out for lunch after…holding her hand as they walked anywhere she wanted…holding her against him as the slept. For the first time, he understood what people meant by the expression falling in love because he knew that's how simple it could be for him. If it had been her first night in Arbor Bay instead of her last, if he had had more time with her, Will wasn't sure if he could have stopped himself from taking that plunge.

So, praise be that it had been her last night. Because he had vowed long ago, holding a month-old Lucy in his arms as they sat outside this very house with the ocean in front of them, that **she** would always be the only person who ever lived inside his heart. She'd never know what it was to be left behind. She'd always know she was the beginning, middle, and end of his universe; such a promise left no room for anyone else. It was why he knowingly built his life solely around his daughter. It was why when the urge for female companionship became too strong to ignore, he picked women that could be easily removed from his attention. Elizabeth had been just like that on the surface when really, she was the aberration, the ultimate exception. For two months, he had tried in vain to remove her from his attention. For two months, he grateful that there was an ocean between them.

There was no room in his life for selfishness, for his own wants and desires. There was simply no room in it to be a twenty-five year-old man that wanted to do nothing more than kiss a beautiful woman named Elizabeth Swann senseless.

To hammer that point home, Lucy called out to him from the bathroom. "Daddy! Can you please help with my hair?"

Putting his own thoughts aside (yet again) he walked into the bathroom and found Lucy already standing on the stool she used to reach the sink, waiting patiently for him with hairbrush in hand. Her school uniform – a white polo shirt underneath a navy dress – was perfectly put together until he looked down to her knee-high socks and saw they were mismatched; one was green with yellow stripes, the other bright orange. Again. For the fifth time. This month.

Shaking his head, he walked to her room and searched through her dresser until he found a matching pair. "You know I'll never let you get away with this," he said as he handed them to her. "It's against the school rules."

"I know," she admitted, sighing dramatically. Under his watchful gaze, she promptly changed. "I just think it'd be a bit funny, that's all. Besides, Moira Dixon wears a different colored shirt most days and Garon Montez's parents let him wear sandals whenever he wants. The teacher doesn't yell at them."

Wrapping his arms around her waist when she was finished, Will boosted her higher until she could see both their faces in the mirror. "Who is that little girl I'm seeing? Is it Moira Dixon?"

"No."

"Who is it?"

"Lucy Turner."

"And what does Lucy Turner do at school, even if the other kids don't?"

"She listens to her teachers, she follows the rules, and she learns as much as she can," she recited from memory, pouting her lips. Will turned that pout into an infectious grin as he tickled her sides before he set her down on her stool and grabbed the hairbrush. He carefully combed the tangles from her thick hair and against all odds managed to pull it back into a messy, slightly off-center ponytail.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he apologized, wincing a little at his handiwork. Breakfast was a breeze compared to taming his daughter mane. "I don't think I'll ever be as good at this as Auntie Ana."

She regarded her reflection for a beat and shrugged nonchalantly, reaching for her toothbrush. "It's fine. She says I'm so pretty that it's probably good my hair isn't always neat. Otherwise, the other girls would get jealous of me."

 _Dear Lord_ , he smiled to himself as they brushed their teeth together. _Why am I pining over a woman I'll never see again when I've got perfection right here?_

When they were both finally ready, they walked out of the house to face the warm spring day. The sun was already beating down on them as Will stayed on the porch to lock the door while Lucy zoomed ahead of him. "Daddy look!" she called out suddenly, halfway to the car.

"What is it?" he asked, not checking as he fought with a doorknob older than time itself.

"Over there, at Captain Jack's dock. It's Bootstrap's boat!"

At the mention of the name, whatever pleasant mood Will had been in evaporated. Tamping down on the urge to put his fist through the wall, he made sure to take as calming a breath as possible before he turned back to Lucy. "Come on, we're going to be late for school," he said when he reached her, pulling her along to the car. Hoping she was wrong, he glanced over to Jack's and saw what he hadn't been able to see in the early morning light: the familiar sloop was just visible from their angle among Jack's other boats.

 _What the fuck is he doing around here?_ Will thought angrily, making sure Lucy was buckled in the backseat before getting behind the wheel and urging the prehistoric engine to life.

"When did Bootstrap get here?" Lucy asked innocently, unaware of the wound she was poking at.

"I'm not sure, sweetheart." He kept his eyes to the unpaved dirt path as they left the privacy of their secluded beach for the main roads, deliberately not looking back and keeping his voice as level as he could. "Probably last night when we were asleep."

"Did you know he was coming?"

"Nope, no idea."

"Did Captain Jack?"

 _He better damn well not have or I'll rip his spine out through his asshole._

"Your guess is as good mine, Lucy-Goosey." Eager to change the subject, he asked, "Have you decided yet what you're bringing in for Sharing Circle on Friday?"

"I don't know. Maybe one of the pictures Auntie Ana gave me of us."

He thought of the brilliant photographs Anamaria had taken of he and Lucy over the years that dotted various areas of their cottage; immediately he shook his head. "No, those are far too nice. You don't want them getting all smudged up. She works hard on those. Why don't you just bring in Felix? Don't most kids bring in their stuffed animals?"

"Daddy!" He caught her eyes in the review mirror, completely aghast at him. "You know how shy he is!"

The rest of their ride was spent in a lighthearted argument about bringing poor Felix out of his shell until they arrived at Lucy's school. Parking quickly onto an open spot on the curb across the street, he got Lucy out and walked her over to the sun-bleached fence enclosing the one-story building, crowded with other students and their parents. He quickly crouched down to her level and pulled her in for a hug. "I love you."

"Love you too, Daddy." She briefly nuzzled her nose to his and then she was off, fitting her backpack over her shoulders with her very messy ponytail bouncing behind her as Will watched until she was out of sight. Only seven hours or so until he saw her again.

Hustling back to his car, he grabbed his toolbox from the trunk and walked the two blocks to work. J. Brown Repairs wasn't much to look at from the outside, a grimy mass of bricks neighboring a barely used commercial dock, and there was even less to see on the inside. A mishmash of workstations and outdated tools lined the concrete floors and walls. He unlocked the side door to let himself in and walked over to his bench, promptly turning on the overhead lights and slipping his headphones on. Finding something on the cracked iPod Jack had given him years ago to match his mood – something with screeching guitars and no meaning – he lost himself in his labors. The only thing he worked on here were the boat engines and parts so old and archaic only the poorest, most desperate fishermen would take them. Thankfully, there were enough in the area surrounding Arbor Bay to keep the work steady and he was close enough to get Lucy every day. Unfortunately, the poorest and most desperate fishermen couldn't pay much. He supplemented his time at the shop with freelance work he did at home; anything from more modern boat engines to everyday appliances and even motor cycles when he had the time for it. Mechanical work had always come naturally to him. There was a straightforwardness that he had found rewarding: find what's broken and fix it. Bob's your Uncle, Fanny's your Aunt, and life goes on.

It wasn't the dream, though. The dream was the sea, specifically the boats that made their life in those waters. By the time he was fourteen, the years he'd spent with Jack and others on the docks had sewn within him a desire to restore boats and ships to their former glories. He picked up all the knowledge he could from his time with the experienced crewmen and shipwrights that indulged him, but by the time he was both old enough to begin formal training and could afford it, Lucy was on her way and one dream was replaced with another one that needed him for food, shelter, and safety. He supported them with whatever work he could find, sometimes two or three at a time before he ended up at Brown's when she was four and in nursery school. With the financial burdens ever so slightly eased, he had recently let Jack begin encouraging him to try with one of the bigger companies on the island. Without any real education or apprenticeships, however, it was a futile effort and, truth be told, Will wasn't sure he **could** work for someone telling him how to restore a ship. That was the job of the ship or boat itself; all he had to do was listen closely and he could bring it back to life. Ideally, if the universe would ever allow it, he would start his own business. But with no funds and no reputation, it was a dead dream. Or rather, a dream sitting on life-support waiting for him to pull the plug. He just couldn't seem to. Something about restoration called to him. Maybe it was an unyielding need to always try and fix what was broken or his passion for helping to keep the stories of those boats and ships from ending. Or, perhaps, he just didn't understand a person's need to replace something totally and discard the scraps as if they were nothing.

He supposed he could thank Bootstrap for that one.

Pushing the man from his mind, Will worked steadily and precisely until he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Shutting off the music, he pulled off his headphones to find Samuel, his lanky middle-aged coworker, as well as the other men who made up the small staff going about their day. "Brown's on his way in," the man said with his thick Jamaican accent. "You best be scurrying along."

Will saw the time and groaned. It wasn't eleven yet and he wasn't even halfway through his work for the day. Technically, though, Will didn't work for the repair shop anymore. After an overheated argument between himself and a plastered Brown that almost came to physical blows last summer, Will had been summarily fired and banned from the shop. Luckily, Brown almost always stayed plastered at his own home every single day. Per an agreement with Samuel (who ran the business in everything but name), Will still worked in the shop, so long as Brown wasn't there and he took his payment in cash. Sighing, he cleaned up his area. "These two are all set," he indicated to the two engines on the left side. "I didn't get a good look at that one, but it just sounds like the propeller needs to be replaced. I can finish the rest tomorrow."

"I got it. Here you go." Samuel pressed an envelope to his hand. "Give Miss Lucy a kiss from me."

Frowning, Will squeezed the envelope and peered inside. "This is too much," he said, immediately taking bills out.

"It's not enough, Turner, for what you do. Take a little extra. It won't kill you."

"Didn't earn it, won't take it." Will slipped the cash in Samuel's shirt pocket and clapped him on the back as he left for the day. Throwing the tools back in his trunk, he paused for a moment. There was something in him that wanted nothing more than to walk across the street and take his daughter out of school for the day, just to see the look of unbridled excitement in her eyes. But he had to set an example; he was always trying to instill responsibility in Lucy, show her that every whim couldn't be catered to, so he forced himself into the car and started driving. Besides, there were answers he needed.

Winding his car through the seaside town – away from the modest homes and shops of the locals he spent most of his time among and into the pristine downtown area closer to the lush, white-sanded beaches that the tourists claimed for themselves – Will eventually found himself parked in front of the Black Pearl. It was the first time he had been back there since that night…since Elizabeth and as he walked in through the employee door, he steeled himself against his traitorous thoughts. Still, he couldn't stop himself from one glance up to the third floor, to the window of the flat they had shared their brief time together. It didn't help his mood at all as he went inside to hunt down Jack.

Finding him was easy; Will heard his voice even before stepping onto the eerily quiet main floor. Jack was behind the bar, waving his hand and walking back and forth as he orchestrated a story for Gibbs, who Jack was too busy to notice had already passed out some time ago based on the amount of drool underneath him.

"…and then they made me their chief," Jack finished as Will took a seat in front him, far away from the sleeping Gibbs. "Ah, young Turner. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company so early in the day?"

"Brown was headed in. I had to slip out." Jack filled two shot glasses with amber liquid and set them on top of the bar. "I'm good, thanks."

"Didn't offer you one." Jack tossed both shots back in quick succession. "So, tell me, whelp, why on one of your rare afternoons of freedom did you find your way to my lovely Pearl? Little early for any pretty birdies to be flocking about. Although -"

"I saw his boat, Jack." He stared his friend down, unwavering. "Did you know he was coming?"

Jack woozily shrugged his shoulders. "I may have been given fair warning that a certain vagabond sailor we are both acquainted with was making port in our shores." Will only just held the urge back to reach across the bar as Jack continued. "What of it? It's not like I'll be asking you and him over for tea and crumpets together."

"You know I don't want him anywhere near Lucy. He's already seen far too much of her as it is."

"It's no one's fault 'cept yours, mate. You've raised yourself an inquisitive little whelp of your own. Can't be throwing fits when she likes to meet new people, now can you?"

"They met at your house when I wasn't even there! If anything, you should've stopped it."

"And deny a bloke from meeting his only grandchild? Even I'm not that cruel."

"He's not her grandfather," Will insisted vigorously. "He's not anything to her except a friend of yours that you take in a few times a year and he never will be."

Jack looked him over, for once trying to be careful with his words for this subject was the one considerable thorn in his own relationship with Will. "Like I said, your girl is an inquisitive little whelp. Someday soon, she's going to see the remarkable resemblance you and Bootstrap share and the questions will begin. Then it's all down to what you can do and what you can't do: you either can tell Lucy that relationships between fathers and children can be ever so complicated, trusting her to understand that, or you can't. That's something you're gonna have to get square with."

Will snorted in derision. All this time and Jack still didn't realize this had nothing to do with Lucy not trusting him. He'd cut his own heart out before he ever let his daughter lose faith in him. He only knew firsthand how dangerous it was for her to put any faith on the man she knew only as Bootstrap. Will understood better than anyone how charming his father could be when he put effort into it. It was why it was so easy to for Will to let him into his life when Bootstrap had wandered back to Arbor Bay almost a year after Will had first arrived there. They lived with Jack, went fishing on his boats, and Will listened in rapture as his father told him of all the places he would take them to together someday. For a boy who had grown used to considering himself an orphan, having Bootstrap back as his father was a gift from above to young Will.

But that gift quickly and thoroughly turned into a steady lesson of frustration and regret. No sooner had Bootstrap returned and ingratiated himself into Will's life did he leave again, taking a bit of his son's ability to trust with him. Over and over through the rest of Will's teenage years, the cycle rolled on: sometimes Bootstrap would come back for only a day or two, reeking of alcohol and spewing viciousness at anyone who dared get near him while others he was quiet, withdrawn, and sober. The sobriety never lasted. Neither did the visits and after a time, Will accepted the truth: Bootstrap may have created him, but he was not a father and Will would never give him the chance to be one again. That truth was only cemented when Lucy was born and if not for Jack's interference, Lucy would have never met him to begin with.

"Just keep him away from her," Will instructed him after a time.

"And I'm to what? Lock him down in the basement when she comes 'round asking about him and his travels? People will do as people do, whelp. Also, I'm lacking a basement of mine own."

When Jack wanted to, he could be intractable to the ninth degree. "At least make sure the sonofabitch is sober when she does."

"Won't need to. He has been for a couple years now, if you'd ever cared to ask."

"I don't," Will replied as he stood to leave.

"He wronged you terribly, William," Jack said when he reached the back door. "You and your late mother both, I'll never deny that. For that matter, neither will he. But Bootstrap is also the only reason I'm alive today and that's a debt that I'll always owe. So, do remember that should you happen upon him at my abode and feel the need to unburden yourself of your strife in his presence."

 _Sparrow-speak for keep your thoughts to yourself because the debt you owe the good Captain is one you can't repay, either,_ Will thought caustically.

"Any other pearls of wisdom, Jack?" he asked without turning.

"Anamaria is making me leave the Spaniard bloke she just hired in charge of the Pearl tonight. She wants to have a bonfire and she wants you and the urchin there. Before you refuse outright, Bootstrap has already decided to partake in an evening of reading aboard the ketch. Come by at six, savvy?"

Knowing Bootstrap wouldn't be there made it slightly easier, but he was smarting royally over what Jack was doing by trying to foist that man back into his orbit. Still, Jack Sparrow was the family he had chosen and it would take more than one disagreement or a thousand to change that. "See you at six," he said as he left.

Walking back out to his car, he tried to think of a way to shake this mood off himself before he got Lucy in a few hours. He only ever wanted her to see the best of him and he never, for any reason, wanted to lash out in anger. Thinking maybe a long walk down the length of Brackmoore Pier on this very gorgeous day would help undo some of his frustrations, he went to the corner to cross. For a Tuesday, this part of town was quiet as it was known more for nightlife and entertainment than shopping.

It was probably the only reason he spotted her to begin with.

 _That's…That's…It can't be. Goddamn! You stupid blighter, you're imagining her in broad daylight now!_

Except he couldn't be. His imagination wasn't robust enough to perfectly recreate the soft waves of her hair flowing down her back or the long legs bared under her white sundress that he so vividly remembered wrapped around him even after two months. Or sixty-two days, if he was being accurate.

It was her. It was Elizabeth, standing just across the street from him instead of over an ocean away.

Movement became impossible for him as he stood stock still on that corner, his mouth surely agape as an endless array of questions swirled in his head. All early frustrations over his past or his future were forgotten in an instant as he got his second look at her in the daylight. It was hard to read her expression from the distance, but she was certainly still…her. Stunning beyond belief, even when she wasn't trying to be. She was standing in profile to him on her cellphone, her fingers playing with a necklace she wore and she looked unhappy with whatever was happening in her conversation.

 _What was she doing here? How'd she get here? Is she already taking another holiday? Why'd she come back? Why'd she come to the Pearl? She couldn't be…There was no chance…_

Did she actually want to see him again? Was she here looking for him? More importantly, did he want her to be?

She was still engrossed in her phone and hadn't seen him watching her. He could walk away now to his car and she'd never know he had been there. He s **hould** walk away now, do what he hadn't been able to do at the club, and leave her be. He had Lucy. He had so much work he'd need three lifetimes to complete it all. He had responsibilities and burdens that were his alone to bear. And yet…he had wants. After a morning of dealing with nothing but exasperations he couldn't control, he could let himself feel those very wants for once. There were things that he coveted that he didn't have and she was at the top of the list. That craving to be with her, hold her against them until they both shattered, to simply hear her voice again was growing with urgency by the second and he warred with himself on that street corner.

Stay or leave? Desires or duties? Loving father or twenty-five-year-old single man?

He couldn't move an inch. He prayed she'd make the decision for him and turn away from him. Of course, like many other prayers it went unheard and Elizabeth turned toward him instead, stopping midsentence as her soft brown eyes locked with his.

The war in his head ceased. The only thing he heard was Samuel's words from earlier:

 _Take a little extra. It won't kill you._

Smirking slightly, Will crossed over to her, letting himself enjoy a bit of the pirate's life for once.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: So this got a little long...hope you don't mind. If I haven't mentioned it, please have patience with any spelling/grammar errors. I self-edit and it's hard to catch everything. Also, I am not fluent in Spanish so any mistakes in that regard are the fault of Goggle. Thank you again to everyone's amazing responses. It really means so much. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _It's so beautiful here,_ Elizabeth thought as she stood on the balcony of her hotel room, staring out into the ocean. She had left London in a torrential rainstorm and arrived in Arbor Bay to find utopia. _So peaceful and calm…so exactly what I need right now._ Inhaling a deep breath of the aromatic breeze that wafted over her, she tried to use it to fortify her courage and resolve.

Predictably, it had no effect whatsoever on the tangled web of knots her insides had become lately.

 _Although, that might not be your cowardliness; it might very well be the…other thing._

Three days and – in a fit of insanity late Sunday when she was packing for her impromptu trip back to Arbor Bay – FIVE more home pregnancy tests, in addition to the one she took at Bria's had all confirmed what Elizabeth had known the instant her friend suggested it in the first place: she was pregnant.

She was having a…She was expecting…In a little over seven months, she'd welcome a…

She was pregnant. That was all her mind would allow her to process. Anything beyond that and she broke out into a dripping sweat, which she could not afford to do right now.

Because right now, she was going to find Will Turner and tell him that she was pregnant.

She just had absolutely no idea how.

Well, that wasn't fair to say. During her flight, she had written draft upon draft of the speech she was prepared to give him until she had it down pat. It was eloquent yet straightforward, professional yet compassionate. He was under absolutely no obligation to support her in any way, emotionally or financially. Everything would be her responsibility. She'd live her life in London and he could go about his life here. It was the pragmatic decision for all involved. The law professional side of her was proud with how sensible she was being about the process and was confident Will would feel the same way.

But another part of her, a part that didn't have a name as of now, almost hoped that he'd have questions and concerns about the whole arrangement. She almost hoped he'd fight her on her sensible plan. After all, together, they had created something bigger than themselves; did they just shake hands, exchange numbers for their lawyers, and be done with it? Was that what the sum of their relationship would be from here to eternity? Would she never see him after this, except maybe in the eyes of their –

"Killer Queen" saved her from allowing **that** mental wandering to gain traction. Shaking her head, she walked back into her airy room and picked up her phone.

"Bria, I told you I was fine last time you called," Elizabeth told her friend. "Nothing's changed since an hour ago."

"Yes, but as you clearly are not fine I'm checking up on you again. Have you caught the ferry back to Kingston yet?"

"Nope, I have not." Elizabeth fluffed her hair in the mirror and rechecked her make-up, keeping her speech gratingly perky. "I'm actually heading out to the Black Pearl right now. I know it's early, but I figured someone there would be my best bet to find him."

"And as your attorney, I highly advise you against that."

"Well, good thing you're not my attorney, as I have not paid you any type of retainer or signed a contract for your services."

"The only contract you need to be worrying your gorgeous, teeny-tiny brain with is the one that I'm almost finished drawing up for Sexy Bar Man."

"I've told you many times now that he has an actual name. Please call him Will."

"No, I shan't. Do you know the people who get first name treatment with me? The ones actually intelligent enough to wear a condom when they shag someone they've known for only FORTY FUCKING MINUTES!"

Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed. She'd been listening to these diatribes from Bria ever since she'd worked up the nerve to call her from Heathrow right before she boarded her flight on Monday evening. And she knew deep down it was just Bria's strange and brutal Scottish love for her that was setting the poor woman so on edge. Elizabeth just couldn't put her feelings first right now, not with this.

"I can't tell him over the telephone," she explained softly. "I can't have it be like I just left my phone or my keys at his place after a crazy night. I…I just…" She swallowed hard, casting her eyes away from the mirror. "Someday, s-someone's going to ask me about this conversation and I need to be able to say that I told Will Turner in person." She heard her friend exhale loudly over the other end. "Tell me I'm doing the right thing. As my best girl, not as my attorney."

"I can't ever not be an attorney, Lizzie. My lifestyle is far too expensive to support. I suppose…I do understand this need to see him face-to-face with this news. I just don't want him to hurt you again."

Elizabeth frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about? Will didn't hurt me that night." Love bites didn't count, did they?

"Oh, dear Lizzie." Bria chuckled as if she were speaking to a simpleton. "I've been with you these past several weeks. Trust me, you have no idea what Sexy… **he** did to you." Elizabeth's frown only deepened with that cryptic remark. She had unknowingly been in the first trimester of pregnancy these last weeks. That was the only cause of whatever turmoil she had been in…right? Before she could begin to ask, Bria continued. "Alright, so what are you wearing to this meeting?"

"Oh, uh, just sandals, that white sundress I wore to the regatta last summer, and my mum's necklace."

"Good choice. Your tits look fabulous in that dress. It'll distract him, soften the blow."

"Bria! Do not be so crude!" Immediately checking herself over again, she was surprised to find how true Bria's crude words were. Turning at an angle, her breasts were filling out the top of the dress much more than she remembered. "They're…They're a little bigger," she whispered to herself.

Not quietly enough. "Your tits? Yeah, they won't be the only thing to get bigger before you evict your little tenant."

"Goodbye Brianna."

"Call me when it's over, don't care how late it is."

Blindly hanging up, she kept on looking at her reflection. She brought her hands up to the tops of her breasts, wincing at the slight tenderness she felt. The thin chain of the necklace her mother had given her before…before she passed rested in the crevice of her expanding chest and she fingered it, hoping for bravery. Her body was already changing beyond her control and it made it all too real. Much, much too real. Hastily, she pulled on a light sweater, buttoning it up to keep her torso covered. Without giving herself a chance to have second or thirty-eighth thoughts, she grabbed her purse and left her room to head outside, ignoring the bustle around her of the lavish front lobby. The valet out front promptly put her in a taxi and she ignored the thriving tropical landscape outside her window as the car brought her closer and closer to a moment she'd have to live with for the rest of her days, still clutching the pendant of her necklace. She vividly remembered her mother telling her six-year-old self that it was an Aztec medallion that pirates had once fought over; that it was full of adventure and daring, like she always hoped her daughter would be as she grew up. Elizabeth smiled ruefully. She had certainly adhered to her mother's wishes in her youth, always pushing forward and never settling when society told her to temper her willful nature. It was only the potential cost of losing her father that subdued her and even then, she could admit to herself that none of her tastes or true feelings had changed. She had just smothered them down to become the person he wanted her to be. Now she was on the verge of becoming someone else and she still had no idea how to reconcile them into one person.

Her phone buzzed in her purse, startling her from her ponderings. When she saw the caller ID, she scowled. This was **not** what she needed right now, but if she didn't answer she was just creating another headache for later. "Hello James," she said, struggling to keep the annoyance from her voice.

"Hello Elizabeth," he replied briskly, the prime example of pomp and professionalism. James Norrington had been her father's chief of staff since she was a teenager. He ran Father's daily schedule, assisted with all negotiations, and often traveled the country with him. In the turbulent times Great Britain was currently facing, James was also – as of late – the way she and her father communicated. Weatherby Swann was in near-constant meetings mapping out the economic future of the nation and as such had limited time for his only child. For once, Elizabeth had felt no anxiety over the lack of her father's attentions; in truth, it was a relief considering all that she had faced since Saturday. If he didn't still know her secret, she was safe from the storm of his anger and disappointment. "I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time."

 _No, I'm just on my way to tell a man how long one night of passion really lasts._ "No, of course not."

"Excellent. Your father wished for me to tell you that he's throwing a dinner party next Friday evening for dignitaries visiting from Germany. He hopes that you'll be able to attend."

"Of course, I'll be there."

"Wonderful. I'm sorry to call your personal line, but I tried phoning you at work and they said you were not there."

"Yes, I'm a bit under the weather right now." She coughed to try and sell it. "I'm just resting at home now."

"Oh, I see. It's only that, out of concern, I rang your landlord to ask him to check on you and there was no answer."

"A-As I said, I have been resting. And what are you doing ringing my landlord in the -?"

"He also said he helped you load your suitcase into a taxi last evening." Elizabeth bristled in irritation. Damn it! He was checking up on her, one of his little "inspections" (no doubt at the behest of Father or his head of security, the loathsome Mr. Beckett) into her personal life that grated her to no end. Inwardly, she seethed with burning anger. She was not a wayward teenager anymore. She was perfectly capable of…of…

 _Having a conspicuous amount of unprotected sex with a stranger, getting impregnated by him, and then jetting off to a foreign country to tell him all about it?_

Bugger.

"I wasn't trying to sneak away," she lied through clenched teeth. The cab stopped and without paying attention, she handed the fare over and exited onto a sidewalk right on the beach. There were several colorful stands selling trinkets and food lining the walkway, and a little further down was a vast pier extending into the ocean. "I was just trying to -"

"Elizabeth, you've been gainfully employed for a little over a month now. I find it highly unlikely that the rigors of becoming a solicitor have so greatly taxed your system," James lectured haughtily and she gripped her necklace. If he was standing in front of her now, she'd show him how taxed her system was. "As you know, your father went to considerable lengths to ensure that you were selected to work with only the finest attorneys in London -"

"And I appreciate that, but I had something very important come up that needed to be addressed at once."

"Do tell, what is important to you these days? Some roguish bouncer or tattoo artist?"

Elizabeth tried to hold back her snarl. James had usually been the one to get her out of altercations with the law in her rebellious days and he never missed a chance to let her forget it. She could feel herself quickly approaching her limit. "Listen, don't think that just -"

"Perhaps you are a finalist in an international Jell-O shot contest. I do hope you represent England with pride."

"James Norrington, I will not be made to feel-"

"And speaking of pride, what do you want me to tell your father this time, Elizabeth? What excuse would you like me to conjure from thin air about this regrettable but foreseeable lapse into irresponsibility? Do you have any suggestions to offer? Something along the lines of-?"

"Tell him I'm pregnant!" Elizabeth hissed venomously as her emotional reserves – weakened already from endless tears, worn nerves, Bria's scolding, and international travel – finally depleted and she erupted.

She could almost hear him blinking rapidly over the line. "I-I-Excuse me?!"

"You heard me." The beast was off its chain and Elizabeth couldn't contain it any longer. She felt herself start to turn, ready to wind up and chuck the phone onto the sand. "Tell him I'm pregnant, I took a leave from my job, and I came to Arbor Bay to tell -"

Her eyes slammed into Will Turner's, standing across the street from her, the dark façade of the Black Pearl behind him and the world stopped spinning. Elizabeth would put her hand on any holy text in existence and swear to it. She couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't breathe, and she certainly couldn't understand whatever James was going on about. The air was still and the waves of the ocean paused their churning. All that there was in the universe was Will.

 _How does he look that good in a t-shirt and shorts? Most men would like some sort of…Wait, what is he doing? Is he coming this way?!_

There was still some sort of unclear sound coming from the phone in her hand. When she registered that it was James and the volume of his voice was ever increasing, panic swelled within her. She was trying to form some sort of hasty reply or explanation (Sudden Onset Tourette's Syndrome?) but before she could, she realized Will Turner was smiling brightly at her and without hesitation she turned her phone off, her lips moving up of their own accord.

He looked amazing. There was no other word for him. If someone tried to call him merely handsome, she'd question their mental fitness because it didn't do him justice. In London, Bria would occasionally take her to high-end clubs or parties literally teeming with male models, Adonis's one and all. Not a one could compete with Will Turner, though, at least not to her. And it wasn't because of his chiseled features, or the build that spoke volumes of how hard he must work, or the long brown hair – pulled back now – that she could still feel the ends of ghosting over her skin as his mouth had moved down her stomach: it was his eyes. She could never remember in her life seeing a man with eyes so connected to his heart and kindness; eyes that she could become lost in but, deep down, knew she never would because looking into his eyes right now felt like coming home.

The universe must have begun turning again because he had almost reached her and any speech or idea she had about how to tell him her news vanished. How? How was she going to say this to him? Would he scream and swear? Become hysterical? Throw himself in front of a moving vehicle? Without knowing him, **really** knowing him as a person and not a fantasy, where did she begin?

At last, they were only a few feet apart, both smiling at the other, both seemingly unable to move beyond that. Just when the unease almost set in, he softly said, "Hello Elizabeth."

 _He remembered! He remembers me!_

It wasn't all just her.

"Hello Will." A nervous giggle broke free, relieving some of her tension. "It's so good to see you again."

"You, too." His eyes roamed her figure up and down, taking her in with an increasingly broadening grin and she felt lighter than she had in weeks. "What are you doing here?" he asked in astonishment.

Right. She needed a reason to not be in London anymore. She had one of those. If he'd just stop being so damn irresistibly adorable, she'd think of it. "Work," she said suddenly, a touch too loudly. "I-I'm here for work. Or rather, I'm in Kingston for work. There's a client there with estate issues and they wanted the matter resolved in person. We're staying here in town, though, at…at my suggestion."

"Oh yeah, where?"

"The Strathwood. Do you know it?"

"Yeah, really well."

"You've stayed there?"

He laughed good-naturedly. "No, worked there off and on for a while."

"Ah." She cringed slightly at her naiveté. "Well, anyways, I had a free afternoon so I thought I'd take a walk before we got back to meetings and such later."

"Sounds interesting. I've never had the mind for legal work, though."

"Oh, I bloody hate it." The words fell from her lips and she didn't try to reign them in; she didn't feel any need to with Will. "There's nothing I like about my job. Most days I'd rather gouge my eyes out than be in that office for another minute."

He tilted his head, confused. "So why do it then?"

Because Father wanted her to. Because she wasn't gifted in anything else. Because it was what was expected of her from primary school by anyone who had known her last name. "Because…" Elizabeth tried to explain. With him staring at her so earnestly, the words couldn't come. She settled for a weak shrug. Remembering him briefly describing his job when they were drinking together, "Um, what about you? How are the boat engines of Arbor Bay these days?"

"Breaking down without end." Without realizing it, they both started down the sidewalk at a meandering pace. "There's never enough hours in the day to catch up on everything."

"And yet you're here at eleven-thirty on a Tuesday." She studied him curiously. "Lunchbreak?"

"Half day. Roof repairs on the building," Will replied quickly. His hand started to scratch at the back of his neck and she knew he was lying. She decided to let it pass since she was lying to him at the same time. "Anyways I had to go to the Pearl to see my friend, Jack -"

"The one who owns it? The one whose flat we…?" Averting her eyes, she only caught a glimpse when he smiled over at her and nodded.

"Yeah, one in the same. So, uh, I talked to him and then decided to take a walk down Brackmoore Pier." His feet began to fascinate him. "Do you have to get back soon or would you like to-?"

"Yes. I mean, yes, I'd like to join you." She flushed scarlet. Could she sound anymore daffy? "If…If that's what you were asking me, that is." When she was finally able to chance looking at him again, Will was smiling sweetly at her and she felt all a flutter.

Good lord, she was turning into cliched Jane Austen heroine. And she didn't mind in the slightest.

They walked together for almost an hour, up and down the length of the pier several times, the conversation never stopping. Elizabeth never wanted it to. He told her about Arbor Bay itself, the local customs and festivals; what he remembered of England from his boyhood; the peculiar exploits of his rowdy group of friends; his adventures on the seas working on various fishing boats and freighter ships. Listening to him talk about sailing through tropical storms and deep-sea fishing in parts of the globe she had never heard of made Elizabeth feel her own tales of childhood mischief in the gardens of her home, pranks she played on her boarding school classmates, and backpacking abroad for a whole year with Bria lacked any real interest. Not that you could tell by Will's reactions. He teased and cajoled her gently for more details, then laughed uproariously at whatever excuse she offered for her ill-mannered behavior. Charm came easily to him and he used it freely on Elizabeth, who was happy to let him if it meant she got to see more of his smile. The world was invisible to her. She knew there were other people with them on the pier – families and small groups of old men fishing, one man even painting a watercolor – but she paid them no mind. There was Will and there was herself. After a time, she had almost forgotten why she was talking to him in the first place.

Almost.

By unspoken agreement, they finally stopped at the far end of the pier, resting their bodies against the thick, wooden borders and staring out into the magnificent vista. "Elizabeth?" he asked after a time.

"Hmm?"

"Why did you come here?"

"I already told you." Did he suspect something? He couldn't. She wasn't ready for this to end. "I came for work."

"No, I know, but why did you come here?" He nodded back to the unlit exterior of the Black Pearl.

"I wanted to see you," she admitted in a quiet voice.

His eyes never wavered from hers, their fingers inches apart from each other. She felt the pull she had felt when he asked to sit next her and wondered (Hoped? Dreaded?) that he felt it, too. "Why?" he murmured, his voice low and smooth.

She bit back a sigh. It didn't matter what she wanted anymore. For the rest of her life, there would always be something more important than herself. There was a reason she had crossed an ocean and it was to say the words to Will Turner, in person. He was a good man. He was owed that.

"Will, I came because-"

This time, it was **his** phone that interrupted them. Unconsciously, she took a step away from him as he fished it out of his pocket, frowning when he saw the number. "I need to…" He motioned some ways away from her and she nodded, watching as he answered, walking away with his back towards her. Away from his side, the nerves that had been gnawing endlessly at her since Saturday rushed back and she gripped the wooden beam tightly as she tried to steady herself.

 _Alright, young lady, let's get down to brass tacks: Just say the words when he comes back. Get it out of your system. Apologize for your bluntness, but get it out of you. It's festering in there and there's no room for it anymore._

It was true. A part of Will was growing in there now. It was growing and someday soon, ages before she'd be ready, it'd be out there. He had a right to know that there was a piece of him that existed beyond himself. Steeling her resolve, she turned to see him coming back to her, his face drawn and his eyes downcast.

Whatever was troubling him immediately troubled her and made her determination falter. "Is everything all right?"

He studied her a long beat, a sad smile playing at his lips. "I have to go, Elizabeth."

No. No, he didn't. He had to stay here and listen to her. He had to. She had to share this with him, just him, or it would crush her. "I just need…If you can give me just a few more minutes to-"

"I have to go and get my daughter from school. She was, uh, in some kind of fight and I have to pick her up."

A slight gust blew past her, brushing strands of her hair across her face. They tickled the end of her nose and she laughed a little. Had he…Had he said what she thought she heard? No, impossible. "W-What do you mean?"

"I have a daughter," he repeated slowly and Elizabeth felt her breath start to come out in light pants, her smile fading along with his. "She's almost six and she's the only thing…no matter how much I might want to…" He closed his eyes, running a hand across his tired face. "I can't have anything else in my world except for her. I'm sorry."

 _I…What…How is…. DAUGHTER?!_

He startled her then, coming up quickly beside her and brushing his lips against her cheek, his goatee rough against her skin. "Goodbye, Miss Swann," he whispered. Before she could begin to consider whether she was able to have a reaction, Will was gone, his steps sure and hurried, taking him further away from her until he was out of her sight.

Her legs began to tremble. Feeling her body weaken, she stumbled over to a nearby bench and sank onto to, wrapping her arms around herself, the cold she felt having nothing to do with the sea air. Elizabeth had had nightmares about this moment over the last few days: there were ugly words and looks; accusations of slander; in the most horrid one, he had even shoved her away in contempt. But there had also been dreams: ones where he eventually smiled and took her hand; telling her it would be alright and she had believed him. What had just happened, though, she could have been giving a thousand guesses and she'd have missed every time.

 _A daughter?! How can he have a daughter?!_ _How can he already have…?_

The bile in her throat rose faster than a bullet from a gun. She only just held it inside as a fiery anger consumed her heart over what she had just recognized: there had been someone else. There had been a woman before her. Someone else had had a careless night with him and he had given **her** a piece of himself before Elizabeth.

She wasn't special to Will Turner at all.

The anger almost at once burned into a searing pain and there was nothing that could stop her emotions from paralyzing her. Around her, she felt the other people moving and she could just make out the clouds slowly moving against the crystal blue sky yet she remained a statue, too devastated to even cry. How could she have let one night mean so much? How could she have let one man mean so much when she had mattered so little?

It was only when the sun began to uncomfortably heat her skin that she started to take notice of anything around her and the first thing that registered was sound. Specifically, a loud clicking coming from fairly close to her. With a jump, she saw someone behind a camera taking pictures of her from behind a tall post. Before she could scream, an exotic dark-skinned woman with shiny black hair, wearing a stripped kaftan stepped out from behind the lens, holding up her hands in peace.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she apologized, putting her camera back in a heavy black case slung over her shoulder. Elizabeth couldn't place her accent. There was an island quality to it while also sounding like she had spent times in the States.

When her breathing relaxed, Elizabeth eyed her with great misgiving. "Why were you photographing me?"

"I'm not a stalker," she assured Elizabeth, her gentle smile doing wonders to assuage Elizabeth's fear. "I'm an artist, one of many hats I wear. My camera is always with me so I can capture moments, and you, honey, looked like you were having quite a moment."

Elizabeth found herself nodding. "You have no idea."

The woman quirked an eyebrow at the bench, asking to sit. Elizabeth nodded and she joined her, shutting off her camera. "Want to talk about it, Miss…?"

"No, um, I'm just…I'm Elizabeth."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Anamaria."

* * *

The car ride home from school was quiet for the Turners. Lucy was staring out the window, her hazel eyes dejected – much like he could remember his own mother's being when he was young - and dead silent. Will kept catching her sneaking glances at him in the rearview when she thought he wasn't looking. She looked nervous, not knowing what kind of reaction she'd get from him, and he wasn't surprised in the least. This was the first time she had ever been in trouble at school and in truth, he wasn't sure how to treat her because he still had no idea what the fight had been about. Neither Lucy or the other girl, Kayla Miller, had offered their teachers any explanation for the recess mini-brawl and both had been sent home for the rest of the day with strict warnings that their behavior needed to improve before coming back in the morning. Based on the secret dirty look he had caught angelic little Kayla flashing his daughter when her mother's back was turned, he knew deep down that Lucy wasn't the instigator, especially given the frown of perpetual disgust the lovely Mrs. Miller had given Will himself in the school hallway. His daughter not being a bully was only a small comfort for it meant she was **being** bullied. He'd wage wars with any man who dared hurt his child, but these weren't men; these were her classmates and he'd have to help her navigate how to overcome them on her own, when she was still hardly more than a baby in his eyes. He didn't know where to even begin.

He just knew it would be much easier if he didn't keep seeing Elizabeth's wind-blown look of shock in his mind's eye as he told her about Lucy.

That hour or so he spent in her company had been bliss, from the time he spotted her near the Pearl up until his phone interrupted. He had been half-worried walking towards her that being with her – this time fully clothed – would be stilted or clumsy; if anything, it was the opposite. Outside of lying about why he wasn't at work, it was effortless to talk to her. The same old boring stories he had told for years delighted her, almost as much as her infectious laughter delighted him and the nearness of her body tested his willpower. When they were quiet and gazing out into the ocean, suspended between reality and a bubble that held just the pair of them, it took every ounce of self-control to hold back from kissing her; and when she told him she had come to the Pearl because she hoped to see him again, what little remained of that self-control waved a hearty farewell. The buzzing from his pocket was the only thing that prevented him from devouring her out in the open. When the number came up as Lucy's school, he wanted to throw himself off the pier in shame. The guilt inside him was so dense, it threatened to crawl out of his pores: guilt for leaving Elizabeth alone on the blasted pier; guilt for being out with her in the first place; guilt for Lucy waiting for him at school so long when he should have been just across the street; guilt for wondering what would have happened on that blasted pier if his phone hadn't rung; guilt for wanting to crawl into bed and letting someone else deal with it all.

Only there wasn't anyone else for Lucy; she was in pain and there was just him to guide her to the other side. It was what he had signed on for when he had seen the first ultrasound scan of her, nothing except a mass of light and dark shadows that he knew instinctively belonged to him, Will Turner.

His baby. His heart. His future.

He'd be damned to a Hell like no other if he let himself start failing her now.

Pulling in front of their rundown cottage, Lucy found it in herself to speak, her voice small, trying hard to hide unshed tears. "Am I in trouble, Daddy?"

"Do you need to be?" he asked her carefully. There was nothing wrong in his mind with defending one's self from attack, verbal or physical, but he was curious to see if she had developed a line of her own that shouldn't be crossed.

Lucy shrugged slowly. "I don't know."

"Then let's go inside and talk." Letting her out of the car, he steered her into the kitchen and sat her down at the table. "What happened with you and Kayla today?"

"We had a fight," she said, eyes glued to the scratched tabletop as her fingers drummed against her chair arm.

"Well, that much I knew. What was the fight about?"

"Nothing," she answered immediately. Will pinned her down with a raised eyebrow and she hunched a little in her seat. "I mean, she was just…being very foul and when I tried go to another part of the yard to get away from her, she p-pushed me on the ground. So I…I pulled on her hair and then I kind of kicked her, but only just a little and only on her shin! I-I'm sorry."

"Lucy," he sighed in disappointment. That wasn't his daughter. She wouldn't even let Jack swat at bugs in front of her. "You can't go and hurt…" Her thin little lips started quivering, but she only let one tear – one single tear – slip down her cheek. His heart throbbed with each beat and whatever small blip of anger he felt over her actions ebbed away at the sight of his girl doing whatever she could to be brave. Knowing what she needed, what they **both** needed, he gently pulled her on to his lap and nestled her close, shutting his own eyes when he felt more drops of moisture on his neck. He rubbed her blonde hair and her hitching back, rocking a little in the creaky chair. It reminded him of when she was an infant and he couldn't help but smile. When her tears started to slow, he whispered in her ear, "Hush now…It's alright. Do you know what this makes me think of, sweetheart?"

"What?" she asked wearily.

"One night, when you were a baby and getting your teeth in, you cried so much I probably could have filled the bathtub with your tears. Do you know how I finally got you to stop?"

She rested her cheek on his shoulder, one watery eye meeting his. "How?"

"We had this rocking chair in your room that was as old as the sea itself and after walking you around the house all night, I just collapsed in it with you on my chest. Then, we rocked, and rocked, and rocked until you know what happened?" She shook her head. "We rocked until that chair broke apart and I landed on the floor, right on my rear end."

Lucy gave him a small smile and he soared to the clouds. "We did not, Daddy."

"I swear on your pretty little nose," he tapped it with his finger, eliciting a small giggle from her, "that we did and you know what else? You greatly enjoyed the sight of your poor father in the middle of a pile of wood with splinters on his rear end; so much, in fact, that you stopped crying and that's how we both fell asleep that night. Just you, me, and a broken rocking chair on the floor."

"That's a good story."

"Of course, it is. You're in it. All my best stories have you in them." Calmer now, she seemed disinclined to move from his arms and Will was more than happy to keep her there. Reaching for a paper towel, he lightly dabbed her face. "What did Kayla say to you that was so foul?"

"Just…things. Mean things."

"Like what?"

She shrugged again, closing her eyes and cuddling into him a bit more. "I don't remember."

Yes, she did. On the few occasions she lied, she did everything she could to avoid looking at him. "I bet, if you tried really hard, you could remember and tell me. That way I could help you. Do you think you could try?"

 _Come on, sweetheart. Let me fix it,_ he implored her silently. _You don't need to take on the world by yourself just yet. That's why I'm here._

"I don't remember," Lucy finally repeated faintly.

Deciding she had been through enough today, Will couldn't make himself force it out of her. "Okay, Lucy-Goosey. If you do remember, though, you can tell me anytime. And if Kayla says anymore foul things to you, I want you to go straight to your teacher. We don't hit or kick people just because they make us mad sometimes. If we did, Auntie Ana wouldn't have time to do anything during the day but beat up Captain Jack, now would she?"

Lucy wrinkled her nose, very amused. "No, he is quite silly most of the time."

"And Lucy? I want you to do something for me tomorrow."

"What?"

"I want you to apologize to Kayla for fighting with her and tell her you won't do it again."

"But she started it," Lucy whined.

"And you'll finish it. You're going to be the bigger person, Lucy Jacqueline Turner, and show her that whatever she said to you didn't matter in the end."

She frowned in confusion. "How can I be the bigger person? She's taller than me."

"It's…It's an expression, sweetheart." He chuckled to himself. It must be nice to be a child sometimes. "It just means that there's times we have to do things we don't want to because it's right. Don't you agree that it's right to say sorry to someone that you've hurt?"

"I suppose…But I'm not going to give her the good crayons anymore during art because she just breaks them anyway."

"Fair enough." Nodding in agreement, he patted her back and set her to her feet. "Do you want to go to next door for a bonfire tonight?"

She fairly started bouncing in eagerness. "Can we roast marshmallows?"

"If you do all your homework before we leave and straighten out your room. Got it?"

"Got it." Picking up her backpack, she started digging through it and Will let out a breath he had been holding since they left the school. If nothing else, Lucy was durable, but it seemed their talk had worked its magic. Thanking the heavens he managed another crisis without breaking her, he decided to get a head start on the growing pile of laundry.

 _What a domesticated little eunuch you are_ , Jack's voice mocked in his head. _I'ma get you a lil' apron with daisies and cherries on it. Bet Miss Swann would swoon, seeing you in that._

He paused in the doorway of the tiny scullery, basket in hand. What would Elizabeth think, seeing him like this? What would she think of him if she saw him as a father? What would she think of Lucy if they…? Scoffing quietly, he chided himself for such frivolous thoughts. It was pointless to consider a future without any chance of forming. Elizabeth would be going back to London in a few days and he'd find a way to get her out of his system once more.

He hoped.

Later that evening, homework and housework completed for the time, Will and Lucy made their way across the stretch of sand to Jack's place. Tiki torches were lit around the large wooden deck, even though the sun had yet to set, and a large pile of kindling nearby ready to light. The grill was already smoking and the smell of steak made Will's stomach grumble loudly, having not eaten since breakfast.

"Mr. Gibbs! Mr. Gibbs! Mr. Gibbs!" Lucy yelled, racing ahead of her father to join Gibbs and Jack on the deck. "Did you bring any dice?"

"Always, Miss Lucy, always for you," he told her, leading her over to the long banquet table to join other members of Captain Jack's "crew" that had already arrived for the impromptu gathering.

"No gambling!" Will warned her as he reached Jack. "Liar's Dice is just for fun."

"And gambling is one of the most leisurely pastimes dating back to when Britain was a mighty Empire," Jack lectured, waving a long spatula in Will's face. "Besides, she'd make good money off it. Lil' urchin beats me most of the time and I'm the biggest liar on this island."

Will smirked and took a moment to check the dock. The ketch was tied securely and there was no sign of Bootstrap above. Good, now he could enjoy himself. Grabbing a beer from the ice bucket, he went back to the grill to critique Jack's work, stealing bits of food here and there to Jack's annoyance, while keeping an eye on Lucy as he did. She was joyfully in her element; the beloved princess among a group of good-hearted scallywags, and whatever lingering ills from her fight at school were cured as they lavished attention on her. Watching over her for a bit, he started to think for the first time that maybe it wasn't good for her to be doted upon by this particular group. While her teachers had always reported that she was friendly and sociable in school, she never asked to bring friends home and as far as he knew, never got invited to theirs. Was growing up around all this healthy for her? Maybe it made her too different from other children her age.

"You, sir, are a LIAR!" she bellowed, arms raised in victory when poor Marty was forced to raise his cup and she stood on her chair to bow, beaming as they all applauded her.

 _Nah_ , he thought, love swelling up in him at her antics. _Anything or anyone that makes her smile like that can't be bad for her._

"Oi, whelp!" Jack hit him on the shoulder with the spatula. "Go check on my lovely wench inside, would ya? This shindig was her bloody idea yet she's been inside all afternoon in her darkroom with her precious pictures."

With a quick smile to his daughter, he walked through sliding door into the surprisingly tasteful (for something Jack owned) living room, done all in whites and wicker furniture. He found Anamaria kneeling in front of the coffee table, dozens and dozens of black and white photos strewn over it as she sorted through them.

"Hello, Madame," he greeted, bending to kiss her cheek.

"What are doing in here?" she asked, pausing only to peck him in return before turning back to her work. "Why aren't you enjoying the food and booze I'm providing you free of charge?"

"Your lesser half is missing you outside."

She spared him a grin. "He can go have relations with a coconut if it makes him happy. I am inspired for the first time in weeks and I am going to savor it. I can't remember the last time I took so many pictures in one day."

"Oh yeah?" He folded himself onto the couch opposite her, leafing through the various shots. Some were familiar spots around the island while there were many others of people, landscapes, and objects he couldn't recognize. He'd never claim to have any sense of what true "art" was, but Anamaria's work always made him feel something – good, bad, or a million things in between. It that was what art was, she should have her own museum by now. "What triggered all this?"

"So I finish up at the café and I just start walking all over downtown, looking for ANYTHING that I can point my camera. When I got close to the Pearl, I figured I'll pop in, maybe take my man upstairs for some-"

"Don't need these details," Will cut in, waving her off. Jack was an amalgamation of every male relation he could imagine, while Anamaria had been his bossy big sister from the time he was fifteen and found her naked in Jack's kitchen. Images of them…that way were best left to someone's imagination. Preferably not his.

"Right. Anyways, I'm walking right by Brackmoore Pier," Will raised his eyebrows, surprised they had almost crossed paths, "and I thought I might as well walk it to see if there's a weird cloud or someone drowning that I could get a shot of."

"Jesus!" He laughed, bemused yet horrified as he was with many things that came out of her mouth.

"I would have jumped in to the rescue after I got my perfect shot! Thankfully, I didn't need to because…" Rifling through her work for a minute, she produced her desired shot with an excited flourish, "…I found my inspiration."

Will's eyes widened in shock _. Elizabeth…_. _What on Earth…?_

Gingerly taking the photo which still smelled faintly of chemicals, Will's breath caught in his chest as he took her in again, a small smile forming as he gazed down at the treasured memento of her profile that he hoped he could talk Anamaria into letting him keep.

The photographer herself took Will's look for something other than reverence. "I know, she's gorgeous, right? Definitely could land print work if she wanted to. Anyways, I see her sitting there at the end of the pier and it just clicked in my head."

Will realized she wanted him to reply and he reluctantly looked up from Elizabeth's still. "Uh, what was it?"

"Beauty and pain, how the bitter makes things more beautiful, and being beautiful can cause unfathomable bitterness. I couldn't stop finding subjects to shot when I made that connection," she explained, gesturing excitedly with her delicate hands at the photo. "Look at this woman: she's a goddess; you can tell by her clothes she's well off; she's sitting in the middle of nirvana on a sunny, eighty-degree day and yet with all that going for her, she's still in agony."

Will's smile evaporated, his blood running cold. "What do you mean?" he asked, a bit harsher than he had meant to.

Who had hurt her? Where could he find them?

She paid no mind to his reaction, still intoxicated on her creative high. "William, look at those eyes. Those are eyes you see coming back from a war. Those are eyes you see when the doctor tells you that you've got six months. Those are eyes that are drowning in a sea of pain, my friend."

She was right. Looking without besotted frames, it was simply impossible to not see the torment Elizabeth wore with such dignity. Her arms were tucked around her stomach, trying to ward off more pain, and even without shedding any tears, he could tell her suffering was crushing her.

And now, also, to him. Because he knew clearly this was taken not long after he left her there alone, and the spike of hatred he felt for himself was blistering.

 _Bloody, fucking, useless bastard_. _Bootstrap's boy, through and through._

"She's tough, though," he heard Anamaria continue in admiration. "I'll give her that. Brave as anything, too. I mean, I'd never have the _cajones_ to fly to another country to tell a guy I'm having his kid."

Slowly, deliberately the words filtered their way through Will's overworked mind, vibrating until they were a wailing pitch of terror. Drawing his eyes away from Elizabeth, he sought Anamaria's. "What did you say?" he asked unevenly, scarcely able to feel his heart hammering away.

"I talked to her for a minute after I took her picture. She was short on details because, you know, total stranger, but essentially she had a wild night with some local guy a couple months back." Will's hand holding the picture shook. He felt what little food he had eaten get ready to make a reappearance very shortly. The blood fled from his skull and he knew if he wasn't careful, he'd end up on the lovely hardwood floor. "Anyways, conception occurs, she decides she's having it, and bless her heart, wants to tell him to his face. They meet up at the pier, have a walk, but before she can tell him, the asshole bolts and now she thinks he's better off not…Will? Will, what's wrong?"

"I-I-I…" Anamaria's hands came up to his face to steady him. He focused on her increasingly worried expression to keep from passing out.

" _Will, I came because-"_

Before the phone call, she had been about to tell him she was pregnant. He had been so caught up in seeing her again, in indulging in a fantasy for a spell he hadn't been paying attention. She came here to tell him she was pregnant and he had brushed her aside to pick up his daughter.

 _This isn't…Elizabeth…No wonder she looks so…I can't…_

"Will!" Anamaria's voice drew him back and he found her kneeling in front of him, shaking his shoulders. "Talk to me. What happened?"

Everything. Everything happened. Everything in his perilously balanced world was thrown off-kilter and it was no one's fault but his own. Still shaking, he pointed at himself, his voice rough, and said, "Asshole."

Anamaria seemed to want to commit him until she suddenly understood what he was saying. Worry morphed quickly into shock and she leaned back on her haunches, releasing him. "Oh my God," she breathed.

Will collapsed against the couch, not sure how he'd ever be able to stand or function again. Thankfully, Anamaria had a cure for that:

Swift violence.

" _¡Estúpido idiota!"_ She condemned him as quietly as she could in Spanish, mindful of everyone outside, and slapping him upside the head several times as she did. " _Preservativos, siempre preservativos, imbécil! Ya tienes un hijo para apoyar. ¿Cómo van a cuidar a otro?!_ "

Her words were a blur to him, but the physical blows pushed him into focus and that spurned him into action. "Watch Lucy," he ordered her as he stood, waiting until he had his legs under him before him moved. "Tell her…Tell her I got called in on a last-minute job and I'll be home later."

"Where the hell do you think you're going?!" she asked, following him to the front door.

"The Strathwood. She's staying there." Without another word, he left her house and strode to his car, thinking quickly as to who worked there that still owed him a favor. Hopefully, one of them was there tonight and could give him her room number.

 _Unless she already she booked a flight out of here_ , he thought bitterly, slamming his door shut and putting his keys in. _Maybe that'd be for the best…_

As grotesque as the idea was to him, perhaps it would be for the best. He was only just treading water as it was with Lucy. To add another to the mix was ensuring failure in all facets of his life. He couldn't possibly do it…so how could he ever ask Elizabeth to do it all on her own?

He smashed his hand against the steering wheel, amazed he didn't break either of them. How could he have done this to her? This was not what she had wanted from a holiday, a child with a man she hardly knew. It wasn't what she deserved. This also wasn't the time to think of that, though. Trying to calm down, he took everything he was feeling and shoved it down until he could breathe without trembling. Shifting into gear, he headed back to the main part of the island for the second time today for a meeting with Elizabeth.

Will had never and would never shirk any responsibilities. Every cell in his body was programmed that way, and no obstacle would dissuade him from taking care of what he had too. Now, Elizabeth and the baby she carried were his to take care of.

If she'd let him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Thanks to a few days off work, I was able to get this written up fairly quickly. Please be patient for the next update as my schedule might start getting crazy soon. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far! Like any writer, I do love to know what you guys think. An especially big thanks to magestic and Shani for all their great private encouragement! Fair warning, if you thought we had angst before, you ain't seen nothing yet. I apologize now for any grammar/spelling errors. Please enjoy!**

* * *

 _Elizabeth knew she shouldn't be here. The fear crawled up through her stomach, settling in her throat and silencing her. This was a bad place, a place that she hated being in. She knew what this room was. She tried breathing and ordering herself to wake up. She looked desperately for a way to escape, for someone to rescue her, but she couldn't find it._

 _She never could._

 _The walls were butter yellow, made brighter still as the summer sunlight peaked in through the gossamer curtains covering the windows. Her sweet porcelain dolls lined the dresser and her enormous Victorian dollhouse (or, as she preferred to think of it, the seaport for the pirate ships stored in her toy chest) sat beside the cushioned window seat. There were framed hand-drawn stencils of various storybook characters decorating the room: The Mad Hatter, Peter Rabbit, Eloise, and others. They were all quite lovely, but she well remembered begging Father for drawings of pirate ships and treasure chests. He refused, naturally, saying they were not proper for young ladies. He even said no to her mother when she asked him and he never said no to her. It had made her sad._

 _Lots of things had made her sad._

 _Elizabeth saw the figure on the canopy bed stirring and she froze as the light blanket was pushed aside to reveal the sleepy little girl; her thin, white nightdress creased and her plaited blonde hair coming loose, the pirate medallion hanging heavily on her neck. Yawning while she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she started to leave the room._

 _Elizabeth tried to scream; tried to call out in warning; tried to throw herself on top of the girl to halt her progress, but she could do nothing. Until the girl's hand opened the door and stepped into the long hallway; at once, Elizabeth felt herself being pulled forward to follow and she tried with all her might to resist, flailing her arms around to find some sort of purchase to latch onto. It was no use. Elizabeth followed her into the carpeted hall, hearing the faint sounds of the morning news coming from the telly in the room three doors down. Father was still gone on his trip, otherwise the maids would never have had it on while they cleaned the room._

 _The girl was almost there, almost at her destination, and Elizabeth wished she could squeeze her eyes shut and close off her ears. Having lived through this moment countless times before, she knew it was futile. Nothing could stop what was to come and Elizabeth could only watch in mute terror as she and the child reached the door of the washroom, pushing it open._

 _Elizabeth saw the little girl –_ _ **her**_ _as a little girl – frown as she felt with her feet the wetness on the smooth marble tiles. It took her far too long to realize that it wasn't just water; by the time she did, by the time she realized that water shouldn't be so red, the stage was set:_

 _From the doorframe, the young Elizabeth cried out, "Mummy!" She ran to the still form laying in the overflowing bathtub, shaking her and screaming at her to wake up._

 _Only the older one knew that it was too late…_

"NO!" she screeched, thrashing and clawing, sweat trickling from her forehead and neck as she struggled to catch her breath. Stifling, she threw the bedcovers off and went to the balcony door, wrenching it open. She sucked in hulking gulps of the early evening air, the sun just beginning to set in the distance. Her fingers caressed the medallion ritualistically, slowing in time as her heart began to pump normally. When she felt calmer, she fell back against the outdoor settee, hoping with enough time the cooling Caribbean wind would work its magic and bring her peace.

Father had sent her to therapists and psychiatrists for years after her mother's suicide, from the week after it happened all the way through adolescence. None of them had ever helped to repair or explain the damage that one moment had shaped her into, but they had at least given her ways to cope. In times of trauma or stress, many of them had said, she'd more than likely have nightmares or remembrances of that time. If she knew that was all they were, they were easier to come out of and it was true. Nowadays, when she had them, her recovery time was much shorter than when she was a girl, when she could go for days without being able to leave her bed or go into the washroom. Still, it had been years since she had had one as vivid as that, where nothing was blurry or hazy. What had spurned this clarity?

Looking down, Elizabeth discovered one of her hands laying gently on her stomach over the material of her wrinkled sundress.

 _Oh, right. That old chestnut._

It didn't feel any different, not yet, unlike other parts of her figure. She had always been slim, thanks to good genes and Bria's incessant hounding to keep her body firm and tight for as long as possible. Idly, she wondered when it would start getting rounder. It was then it hit her that she truly should have seen a doctor by now. Bria had texted her at least a dozen names before she had left for Arbor Bay, but in her haste to get back to the island she had neglected to make an appointment with any of them, or do any kind of research, or prepare in any way for this. She had no idea at all what to expect now that she was…expecting: none of her acquaintances had children; there were no cousins or aunts to speak to; her mother was gone; she had never even childminded when she was younger for she had certainly never needed the pocket money. Frankly, the only person she knew well enough who was a parent – besides Father – was Will Turner and it was unlikely she'd be having a conversation with him again.

Curling up on the settee, she was ashamed of how hurt she had let herself be by his admission. Nearly as much as the fact that she could still faintly feel his lips against her cheek, but not quite. God, what had she been thinking coming here? Measurements hadn't been invented yet for how catastrophic this idea had been. She had jeopardized her job, disappointed Bria, driven herself crazy to the point of blurting out her pregnancy to James Norrington of all people, and for what? For the lovely prize of being humiliated by Will while at the same time, failing to accomplish what she had come here for.

After sitting with that odd, beautiful woman for a short time on the bench, Elizabeth had hurried back to her hotel, feeling exposed after baring so much to a stranger. Safe in the confines of her room, after ordering and devouring the largest piece of cake they had on their room service menu, Elizabeth felt well enough to try turning her phone back on. Biting down on her lip, she discovered numerous messages – voice and text – from Bria, while there was only one voicemail from James. She sighed, relieved, as she shot off a quick message to Bria, five hours ahead of her and no doubt worried sick, explaining she'd call tomorrow with all the details. Maybe James hadn't believed her. Maybe he thought she was joking or trying to get him off the phone so he hadn't told Father yet. Maybe something would go right today.

Of course, as soon as she thought that she fell into an exhausted sleep, only to be brought back to wakefulness by the terrifying moment that had haunted her since childhood.

Small victories. Elizabeth would take them where she could. Especially considering all her defeats that day.

" _I have a daughter…"_

To her surprise, now that the shockwaves had stopped reverberating, she could picture it perfectly in her mind, Will a father to a little girl. A man that open to allowing an outsider like her to see his gentle nature, his thoughtfulness, without any hesitation couldn't be anything but adoring. And she, his daughter – Elizabeth didn't even know her name –what was she like? Was she his precious angel or a little terror, willful and defiant? Will had said she had been in a fight at school; was that a regular occurrence? Goodness, when she had been almost six, Elizabeth remembered throwing tantrums but never…

 _Wait a minute…Almost six? That means he was only nineteen or twenty when she was born. Fuck…_

Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief, doing the math herself, her dulled but never diminished admiration for him skyrocketing again. There was no possibility she would have even considered raising a child at that age. In between her studies, her free time was spent either clubbing with Bria or supporting her father and his work commitments that sometimes took them out of the country. It would have been impossible for sure. And even if she had, for some bizarre reason and with Father's blessing, chosen to have a baby then, there would have been nannies round the clock to attend to it, like there had been for herself. Will wouldn't have had that, though. It was easy to tell that his job didn't pay anything close to what she, personally, considered a living wage. How had he done it then? He had been a nothing more than a child when his own came along and somehow, despite what must have been monumental odds, seemed to have made a life for the two of them.

Or, as she couldn't bear to think, the three of them. There was a mother somewhere in that equation; was that all she was, just the girl's mother? Someone that Will traded his daughter off with a few times a week or month? Had she been a fling, much like Elizabeth? Had she been a girlfriend, a childhood sweetheart that Will was forever bonded to? Perhaps she had even – or maybe still was – a Mrs. –

Elizabeth slammed the brakes before the idea could gain any traction. No, he wasn't married. He wasn't involved with anyone else. He wouldn't have taken her to his bed, wouldn't have even sat down next to her for a drink in the first place if that was the case. That wasn't who he was. He wasn't some crass player; he had only convinced himself he was so he could have one-night stands. Besides, thanks to Bria and some of her more explosive liaisons, Elizabeth knew to always check for a tan line on the ring finger of any man she started flirting with. He wasn't married now, but had he been? Had he done the honorable thing and married the girl he had gotten pregnant?

It was a perfectly reasonable question to consider now that **she** was a girl that he had gotten pregnant.

Leaning her head back, she studied the swiftly fading sunlight for a time, trying to turn her racing mind off. She didn't know how long she sat there until the phone rang and she shuffled back inside to answer it. When she read the caller ID, she all but fell to the floor:

Father…Father was calling her at almost midnight from where he was.

Which meant he knew. He had to, there was no other reason for him to call this late. James had told him her biggest secret. There was no hiding from him anymore. Save a massive explosion in the hotel, she wouldn't be spared this dishonor any longer, although she might find death preferable to this conversation. Clutching her necklace, she sunk down onto the soft mattress and hit the receive button. "Hello, Father," she whispered.

"Elizabeth…" Her name from him was achingly familiar; a loving prayer of devotion to his only child. "Are you alright, my dear?"

"Y-Yes, of course."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm just in Arbor Bay. I came here with Bria on holiday two months ago." There was silence from him and she hurried to fill it. "I'm so sorry about work, Father. I know how unprofessional it was to just…just leave like that, but I -"

"Are you with anyone there?" Weatherby asked carefully. "That is to say, are you alone where you're staying?"

"Of course, I am. I'm at the hotel I stayed in before."

"The Strathwood. Yes, I know. Your credit cards are in my name. Did you doubt I wouldn't know exactly where you were?" Elizabeth flinched at his tone. It was familiar, too familiar. The same way he had spoken to her in her wilder days. Her safety assured, it was time to face her punishment. Her grip on her necklace tightened until she could feel her nails almost piercing the skin of her hand. "I spoke with James Norrington earlier today. Is…Is what he told me true? Elizabeth, are you…?"

Her disgrace was complete. "I'm pregnant," she admitted, her voice catching, betraying the shame engulfing her. "I'm sorry."

"I see." He let her dangle there for a moment. "I had hoped that perhaps he had misheard you or…something of the like."

"I know."

"May I assume correctly that this situation was unplanned? A spontaneous night of amorous weakness?"

It angered her much more than it demeaned her to hear him refer to that night with Will as something tawdry or illicit. She'd give almost anything to relive that night. If it had come from anyone other than Father, she wouldn't have been able to keep herself from lashing out, but since it **was** him she couldn't bring herself to. "Something along those lines."

"And you traveled there to get in contact with this man, to tell him in person?"

"Yes. I-I didn't think a phone call was appropriate."

He sighed heavily. As her shoulders sagged, she hoped she could keep herself from breaking down completely at his approaching admonishment. Instead, he surprised her. "Well, I suppose there was a great deal of integrity in your intention."

"Really?" She was afraid to be too encouraged.

"Yes, really. So many young women of your generation would have never even given the man a second thought in a situation like this. What you did shows strong moral character, Elizabeth."

This time her whole body sagged, in sheer relief, the tension dissipating as she smiled. He understood. Father had understood why she had to tell Will in person. It went further beyond any hope she could have had. "Thank you for saying that. You have no idea how scared I was to tell you. I thought you'd…"

"Never, my dear, never. You had a lapse in judgement for one night. You made a mistake. We are all of us allowed to fall on occasion. And by being honest with this man, you have hopefully saved him from making further mistakes in the future." She suppressed the urge to giggle; leave it to her father to make proper birth control practice sound like a lecture on propriety in the eighteenth century. "I assume then the matter has been settled with him?"

No, not exactly. She could never again face Will Turner, of that she was certain. She'd have Bria contact him with the paperwork when the time was right. "As well as it can be," she said evasively. "I'm going to book a flight home for tomorrow."

"That's good, very good. James informed you of the gathering on Friday?"

"For the Germans, yes he did. Is it in London?"

"No, it's at the manor house. You can come and stay over for the night. It's been so long since we've taken breakfast together."

Her smile stretched the length of her face. "I'd like that."

"Excellent. I'll have my secretary make an appointment for you for after the party. I wouldn't want you in any discomfort for the evening."

"Appointment?" she asked, bemused at the idea of him becoming involved in her pregnancy. He wouldn't try to come to any of her prenatal appointments, would he?

"Yes. To…" He searched for the words. "To…resolve the situation."

Her smile froze in such a way that her jaw began to ache. When her father said nothing else to clarify his remarks, an icy fist wrapped around her heart, clutching it as she clutched her medallion. "You think…You think I'm having an a-abortion?" she finally asked, praying she had misunderstood. He said nothing again and she shot from the bed like a cannon. "Are you mad?! How can you presume that I would think -?"

"How could I presume that you would **not** act to end this madness?" he retorted, all traces of her loving father vanishing. This was not Father she was speaking with; it was Weatherby Swann, one of the most formidable political officials in all of Europe. "You are in no way shape or form ready for motherhood, Elizabeth. You are unmarried, you have no established career, you still rely on my finances to support yourself. What could you possibly offer to a child right now?"

"Myself!" Tears of all kind – anger, sadness, shame, frustration – spilled from her as she battled Father for the first time in years. "I can give it myself and my love! All the rest will -"

"Will what? Fall into your lap from the sky as everything always has? Hear me well, young lady: in our world of elite society, bearing a bastard child born of a one-night stand with some filthy sailor or drunken waiter will close far more doors for you than it will ever open."

Elizabeth gasped, her hand releasing the necklace to rest on her stomach. While it was still too scary to think of it as anything other than a mass of cells, to hear her own father describe it in the terms he had was unthinkable. "It's mine," she cried weakly. Why couldn't he realize what this was to her? "It's mine and…and it's a part of me so it's a part of you."

"No, it is not," he informed her coolly. "It is a mistake that needs to be terminated, nothing more."

Where was that massive hotel explosion when she needed it? Or the sinkhole? Or the asteroid? Where was the salvation from this heartbreak? "Father…I can't," she told him, trying to infuse some semblance of strength to her words. "I can't end this pregnancy. I know it's not what you want for me and I'm more scared than I've ever been in my life, but if I have an abortion it'll destroy me. It will, I promise you, a-and you don't want me to suffer. Do you?"

He didn't answer her. She could hear him over the line take a sip of something, probably a neat Scotch, his drink of choice. He almost never drank before retiring for the night. Discussing his daughter's reproductive options must be strenuous to his constitution. "We'll discuss this again when you return home," Weatherby said at last. "Call James with your flight information. I'll have one of Beckett's men pick you up at Heathrow."

"Father, please…"

"I understand what a troubling time this is for you, my dear. I don't wish to upset you. When you're back here, safe around all you know, I trust you will make the decision that's best for you and our family. Sleep well, Elizabeth." With that, he hung up.

Elizabeth crumpled to the floor, adrift and broken, violent sobs shaking every muscle in her body. Her only family, her only parent left in this world, and she couldn't speak to him. He wanted her – nay he **expected** – her to do the impossible, no matter the cost to her soul, just so he could avoid being embarrassed at parties. How could he do this to her, his daughter, his blood?

She pressed her hand tighter against her middle. How could he do this to **her** blood?

It was some time before she could control herself, every part of her bone weary and tender. A loud knock on the door penetrated the hammering in her skull and she hauled herself up with one hand, the other still holding fast to something too small to protect itself. Figuring it was another guest complaining about the ruckus she was making, she didn't bother to hide the evidence of her meltdown as she opened the door.

* * *

The Strathwood had been one of the better jobs Will had ever had. The guests usually tipped well, his co-workers were friendly, and the uniforms hadn't been too hideous. Anamaria had gotten him a job as a waiter when he turned sixteen and he had bounced around from that, valet, and bellhop for two years. Still, he had missed working in the docks; being out on the ocean had been the one place he felt at home when he was younger and eventually, he had to choose that over his cushy hotel job. It was all moot a year later when Lucy was born. Couldn't bring a newborn baby to either of them, so he settled with rebuilding rusted engines without a single regret.

The hotel hadn't changed one bit, all done in the familiar teals and creams with colorful, tropical plants all around the lobby. It was mostly empty as Will walked through it, horribly out of place in his simple attire, heading straight to the front desk. When the gray-haired man in a three-piece suit behind it spotted him, he motioned Will over to the far corner.

"I could get fired for this, Turner," Morris said underneath his breath.

"Yeah, and I could have charged your sister a thousand dollars to fix her transmission instead of accepting free meals at her restaurant." He didn't have the patience to deal with a guilt trip. "Just hand it over."

Morris rolled his eyes at the impertinence. "Your girl is on the tenth floor. Number 1016, one of the deluxe suites with an ocean view. She's got expensive tastes, my friend. If you don't mind me saying, she might be a bit out of your league."

"Don't I know it," Will muttered to himself, going to the bank of elevators. Once inside, he leaned back against the stark wooden panels, his body at rest for the first time since Anamaria had accidently told him he was going to be a father again.

 _Please, be serious_ , he berated himself. _Like she's going to want you anywhere near her or that baby. She can throw down money for a suite at the Strathwood like it's pocket change. What the hell is she going to need you for?_

But, and this was one of the many questions hounding him the whole ride over, why had she come all this way if she didn't want him involved? Elizabeth could have easily tracked him down to phone him or send him a letter; why had she felt the desire to look him in the eye as she told him she was carrying his child? Why hadn't she told him on the pier, when they were walking and Will was doing his best to tamp down on the urge to take her back up to the third floor of the Pearl? Before any reasonable answer came to him, the elevator stopped on her floor.

Her room was just down steps the hall and when he arrived at it, he still didn't know what to say. In the span of less than an hour, Elizabeth had gone from unattainable fantasy to the mother of his child (well, one of them at least). He felt disgusted himself, he truly did. Two children by two different women; not even Bootstrap could lay claim to that particular mess. Against either of their wishes, he and Elizabeth were inextricably linked for the rest of their lives. It was a hell of a price to pay for the most incredible night of his twenty-five years.

He finally knocked on her door, wincing as he channeled his frustrations into it, the sound echoing down the hallway. He hoped he hadn't woken her. It wasn't late, but he didn't know her habits; didn't know her that well at all. They had a lot to discuss and not much time to do it. Lucy would be going to bed soon and he needed…

Whatever idea Will had about what needed went to shit when the door slowly opened to reveal Elizabeth, her brown eyes swollen and red, suddenly widening as they took him in.

"What happened?" he asked at once, caught off guard by the fierce impulse to take her in his arms, to protect her and keep her safe. "Are you…Are you alright?"

"What are you doing here?" she asked in return, her defenses thrown up as she kept the door partially closed. "I-I don't want to-"

"I know what came here to tell me, Elizabeth." All manner of tact forgotten, he thought it best to try and get everything out in the open. Quick didn't guarantee less pain, but it was a hell of lot better than wasting time. He put a hand up against the door, not ready to let her lock him out. "You're pregnant."

Slowly, her steps halting, she backed into the room, tacitly inviting him in. After he had shut the door behind him, he waited patiently for her to speak; she didn't seem to have words and the longer she was silent, the longer he had to take her in. Looking at her drawn face only made him feel helpless because he didn't know how to console her. But avoiding that brought the rest of her to attention and he couldn't stop staring at the hand covering her midsection, knowing what she was now keeping safe in there. He shoved his own hands into his pockets, balling them into fists, forcing himself to turn away.

"How did you know?" Her words were hoarse, barely above a whisper. Will wondered how long she had been crying before he had shown up. "Did you just…figure it out or…?"

"Anamaria. The woman from the pier with the camera. She's, uh, my neighbor. The pictures she took of you were…" He stopped himself before the word 'beautiful' slipped and said, "They were on her coffee table and she ended up telling me what you told her."

"Ah. I see." Nodding, she finally started wiping at her eyes, trying to smooth over her distress as she walked out to the balcony, sitting upright against the long couch. The chill of the night air made him grab a light blanket from the foot of the rumpled bed, draping it gently over her bare shoulders as he joined her outside, keeping distance between them by perching himself on the lounge chair opposite her. She fingered the material and gifted him with the scantest hint of a smile. "Thank you."

"So," he drawled, not knowing how to start but waiting to ask something he had been thinking of. "I've been trying to remember that night on the way here and…and as awful as this sounds, did we really not have any conversation about…?"

"Condoms or pills?" She shrugged feebly. "I don't think we did. There was that moment at the club, before we left, when Bria made that godawful joke about STDs, and I remember telling you that you didn't need to worry about that with me -"

"And I told you the same because it was true."

"Right, but after that…Believe me, that's been running through my head, too. I just remember being very…eager." Blush was such a lovely shade on her, even as it made him recall their shared "eagerness" at this most inappropriate time. "It was so stupid and irresponsible. **I** was stupid."

"If you were, then I was doubly." He had gone through this once already, after all.

"One could say that we were stupid together, Mr. Turner," she tried to joke, but couldn't manage it.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he folded his hands together in contemplation. He needed answers, real answers from her. "Why didn't you tell me yourself earlier today?"

"I didn't know how to." The emerging stars captivated her; even upset and despondent, she was exquisite in their light. If their child looked anything like her, it would be a great blessing. "I found out Saturday and…and I was writing this stupid speech out on the plane, but it felt wrong. Then, when I saw you, when we walked along the pier, I couldn't work up my nerve until the end. When…

"When I got the phone call," he finished, unable to stop a small chuckle. "We don't have the best luck with phones, do we?"

Her shy smile told him she remembered perfectly how their time at Jack's flat came to an end. "No, we do not. Is…Is she okay?" At his frown, she continued, "Your daughter? You said she had a fight or something and I didn't know if she was hurt or…?"

"No, she's fine," Will reassured her, surprised she wanted to know. "Just, you know, a schoolyard scuffle. Little hair yanking and shoving. Nothing catastrophic."

"What's her name?"

It took longer than he wanted to speak. He had never told a woman that he had been intimate with anything about his daughter, but then Elizabeth was much more than that; even if she wasn't now pregnant, she still would have been more than just a woman he had slept with. "Lucy. Her name is Lucy."

"That's pretty." Her next question rushed out of her in almost a single breath. "Did you…Did you have to leave her with her mother to come here?"

"No, she's with Anamaria, actually. We were over at her place for a bonfire." He didn't know where the next words came from. He didn't know why he was about to tell her something he still struggled to try to explain to Lucy herself. "She doesn't have a mother."

Now the confusion was passed on to Elizabeth. "What do you mean? Did she…pass?"

Will honestly wasn't sure. It might have happened by now and he had no way of knowing. "No, she left when Lucy was two weeks old. It's just been me and her since then."

"Why? I mean, why did she leave?"

 _That one isn't hard. The real question was why Rebecca even hung around for two whole weeks after._

"Her name's Rebecca," he started to explain to her. "We dated on and off from the time I was fourteen. We were both young, mostly left on our own, and we liked to party, have a bit of recreational fun with…substances. At least, it was recreational for me. Rebecca got into it deep, with some really bad shit, but whenever she managed to get clean we drifted back into each other's lives, more out of convenience than anything else, I guess. The last time was when we were eighteen. I went out with a fishing boat to South America and when I finally came back, Rebecca was already four months along. We moved in together, tried to make it work, but she just…she had to be watched almost the whole pregnancy to make sure she didn't use." He still remembered well the sleepless nights when he seriously considered chaining her to the bedposts in an effort to protect both her and their baby from her addiction. Thankfully, Jack and Anamaria, along with the rest of their extended group of friends, had banded together to help him make sure Rebecca stayed clean. "Anyways, Lucy was born healthy, thank God. It didn't take very long for Rebecca to see motherhood wasn't what she wanted and she split. So, I've been raising Lucy on my own."

"You must hate her so much," Elizabeth said, almost to herself.

"I can't," Will denied. "I'd like to sometimes, believe me. Lucy's not here without her, though, and I'm not anything without Lucy."

"Then I'll hate her for you," she told him. She grimaced a bit, her eyes becoming a little fiery, which Will much preferred over desolate. Her hand went back to her stomach and Will's tensed of its own volition. "I can say that I'm pregnant or expecting, but I can only say…I say 'it' and not any of the other things to describe what it is or it will be. I'm still not ready for it to be so real yet. Just…Just leaving, though? Bringing it into the world and then walking away?" She shook her head in disapproval. "Never. I could never do that."

He believed her. While she may have thought that the baby wasn't real to her right now, Will could plainly see an intense love when she spoke, one he could never recall seeing with Rebecca, even as she held a living, breathing Lucy in her arms at the hospital. It warmed him, but it also reminded him of what he was doing here. "What's going to happen with us, Elizabeth?" he asked her deliberately. "With…it?"

She turned back to the dark sky, wrapping the blanket tighter around her thin shoulders. "I'm going to fly back to London tomorrow. My friend, Bria, she's a lawyer who deals with child custody cases. She's…She's drawing up paperwork for you to sign. It'll be straightforward. You won't have any obligations or…"

"Rights," he whispered. Glancing quickly at the time, he sighed. Two hours since Anamaria had told him. Two hours that he had been allowed to think of himself as a father to a child he would never see or hold; a child he'd probably never even know the name of. He swallowed back the lump that formed in his throat. "And you're fine with that? With raising…I mean, doing this all on your own? That's what you want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want."

"It does to me," he said, bewildered that she could think that, let alone say it as if it were gospel. "It very much matters to me."

"Will…"

"I could help you." There was an opening there, some bit of hesitation that he could hear in her voice; he just had to plow through it. "Doing all this by yourself, you have no idea what it's like. The weight on your shoulders is absolutely…I don't want that for you. Let me try and -"

"How? We live in different countries, Will, in different worlds."

"Then I can go there," he blurted out. "I can go to London, they've got ships there and I can work to support you."

"I don't need the bloody money. I have a job-"

"That you hate. You told me. So, you quit it. I can work and…and…" He tried to make more plans appear out of thin air, tried to say anything to change her mind. The panic he had felt earlier at the thought of being responsible for another child was nothing when compared to what he felt at the idea of not actually getting to be a part of that child's life.

Or Elizabeth's.

Sighing, she maneuvered herself until she was sitting on the edge of the couch, her knees almost touching his. He could smell the floral lilies her perfume was made of and it made thinking more difficult than it already was. "You have a life here," she said. "Your daughter has a life here. You can't just rip her away from that." He wanted to protest, but it died on his lips, much like the hopeless dream of being a proper father to his second child was dying now. Lucy had only him, while this baby would have Elizabeth and a wealth of opportunities in London that he could never provide here. It was an inescapable fact: Elizabeth and their child were on one path, he and Lucy on another, and never the twain shall meet. Understanding that was easy; accepting it would take a lifetime. "I'll be fine," she hastened to tell him. "I'll make sure that this," she put her left hand back on her stomach, "is fine, too. You don't ever need to worry."

"But I will," he said simply. "I'll always worry. It's what being a parent is, always worrying. You'll see. It'll feel like an extra limb on you soon." She smiled without humor and he took her right hand in both of his. Bringing it to his lips, he kissed her knuckles gently. Even as she destroyed him, she pulled him in like no woman ever had before. When he looked up, she looked to be in pain so he released her. "I'll leave you my number. If there's anything you ever need – either of you – please call me."

She reached for his hands again, gripping them so hard it was close to painful. "I'm sorry. I wish…I wish things were different. There has to be something I can do to make this easier."

There wasn't. A hole had been carved in his heart that could never be filled by any gesture or kind word. Elizabeth could do only one thing for him: "Just be a good mother. That's all you can do and I know you will be."

Her eyes watered, even as she smiled. "You're the first one that's called me that."

"I won't be the last." Kissing her hands one last time, he pushed himself up and away from her. Quickly jotting down his number and address on a piece of hotel stationary, he left with looking back, trying to find some way to be happy that while he wouldn't ever get to see her as a mother himself, he had a son or daughter who would.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Once again, we're back to a chapter of just Elizabeth's POV. A lot happens with her here, but we'll catch up with Will next time. As for the chapter itself, I have never been pregnant myself so I'm going off the experience of others and wherever Google takes me. If I miss anything please let me know. And again, I forever apologize for grammar and spelling. Thanks again to all the great support! I really appreciate you guys taking the time to respond. Please enjoy!**

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In her schoolgirl days, Elizabeth had come across her fair share of tormentors and trolls; the mean girls, the ones whose only pleasure in life came from making others miserable. She had heard and seen a fair amount of abuse from those little twats growing up, but looking at her reflection after an almost hour-long shower in the late morning light, she realized they were pansies compared to the bathroom mirror. It judged her. It mocked her. It showed every insecurity, flaw, and imperfection. It made her feel ugly, outside and in. It was the meanest of the all the mean girls in existence, the alpha bitch that bowed to no one. Without regard or caution, it laid bare all her grief from the previous evening of being hurt by one man and herself hurting another.

Shutting her still-puffy eyes, Will's dejection when she refused his offer – haphazard as it was – had shattered her already bruised heart. Sheltered and privileged, even she understood that many men, far too many in fact, would never have done what Will had proposed last night: uprooting everything in his life – including a young child – just to offer help to a woman he hardly knew with the most daunting of tasks.

 _What century is he from?_ Elizabeth thought, flinching slightly as she loosened the towel wrapped around her body, her tender breasts crying for relief. Taking a sip from the second bottle of water she had opened that morning to rehydrate after hours of pitiful crying, she couldn't help but smile to herself just a touch at the thought of Will. _That one_ _skipped a few hundred years. He's like a noble hero with his heart on his sleeve from an old swashbuckling movie._

However honorable his intentions, she couldn't let him decimate his life. Not for her. She wasn't worth it. Yet, he had tried. Oh, how he had tried to sway her and she could never let him know how close she had come to falling in his arms and letting him be her savior; letting him rescue her as she stumbled her way through these next months. But even as tempting as his words had been (though not quite as tempting as his soft lips against her hands), there was a factor that could not be ignored:

Lucy Turner.

She had never laid eyes on Will's daughter, probably never would. In fact, she could only say that the girl was almost six years-old, had been abandoned by a junkie, and was – judging by the almost worshipful tone his voice took on last night when he spoke her name – the absolute light of Will's life. What would happen to that light, though, if she was taken away from everything she loved, everything she knew? If her entire life's course was changed by someone else's decision?

Elizabeth knew. She knew far too well what happened to little girls when their worlds were taken away. She wouldn't let that happen to anyone if she could help it, especially a little girl that Will cherished so much. Her resolve sealed, she set about preparing to leave Arbor Bay behind forever.

The flight would leave that afternoon at three, putting her at Heathrow around six in the morning London time. With some rest on the transatlantic flight (and a great deal of luck), she'd have enough energy to make it to her office to explain away her brief sabbatical and put in some time there to make up for it. Hopefully "Batshit Crazy Pregnancy Brain" was an acceptable medical excuse. After that, she'd maybe grab a quick bite with Bria, have her help to find a competent OB-GYN, and then come up with a plan to avoid her father for the next several weeks, until after the question of her terminating the pregnancy became impossible.

Picking up a brush, she started brutally combing at her wet hair, treating each strand as she wanted to treat Father's comments from last night. This wasn't a naval piercing or overindulging in champagne at an awards banquet; this was the very decision that would define her all the rest of her days. Why couldn't he see that? Why did this pregnancy have to be a slight against him and their name, something he would never abide? It was everything to her. Certainly, he could tell that by the mere fact she had challenged his desire for a quiet abortion without hesitation.

Perhaps he just didn't want to. A shrewd man who spoke with soft tones because he would not ever let himself show weakness by given into emotion during negotiations, Weatherby Swann could not be easily wavered on matters of great importance, even by his only child. A holiday getaway, a shiny bauble, even a new car; Elizabeth knew from a young age she need only but bat her eyelashes innocently and her father would give it to her. When it concerned her safety or her station in life, however, it was a horse of a different color. He would not relent on a position if he thought it was what was best for her and, clearly, he did not think continuing with this pregnancy would be of any benefit to her.

 _He's wrong_ , she thought resolutely, putting the brush down and applying her make-up, focusing on her abused eyes. _I know he's wrong about this. I know what's best for me._

Father knew her as well. More importantly, he knew through years of practice how to make her bend with only a few suggestive words and looks. He could break her defenses before she even realized the first shot had been fired. Did she really trust herself to not fall under his influence? If given enough chances, could he really convince her to prematurely end this pregnancy? As fiercely as she had protested him last night, she knew how powerful he could be when he wanted or did not want something and apparently, being a grandfather was not what he wanted. Enough of the scared girl desperate for her father's love still lived in the woman she now was to leave a hint of doubt, which was much too much for her comfort. Therefore, Elizabeth would not take the risk. She'd avoid his calls, refuse his dinner invitations, and evade his influence in her life until there was no chance he could change her mind for a moment.

After all, she had made a promise to Will. For all she had put him through, she wouldn't let him down.

Her face presentable once more, she went about dressing, taking careful pains to select a bra that wouldn't feel like a straightjacket. She was just slipping her sandals on when her stomach cramped suddenly, eliciting a loud gasp from Elizabeth that echoed through the suite. Swallowing, she waited to see if it ended with that or if it continued. A few seconds later, she had her answer as another cramp seized over her.

 _No, please no!_ She screamed in her head, leaning against the dresser with one hand, the other holding fast to her tightening stomach, trying desperately to both ward off danger and the abject fear flooding her senses. _This isn't happening! This isn't happening! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!_

She thought she had known what panic was when she had looked down at that stupid test strip for the first time at Bria's and seen the plus sign, but compared to this? That stupid test strip was a lazy rowboat trip across a serene pond that could not rival the hurricane she was paddling her way through right now. Why hadn't she gone to a doctor before coming here? It was the very first thing she should have done. She should have made Bria take her somewhere on Saturday instead of puttering around for days, wrapped up in her own wants and needs. Bloody hell, there was a HUMAN BEING growing inside her right now, relying on her and nobody else.

How could she have risked it for anything?

Pushing aside her own self-loathing for a time, Elizabeth put her energy into keeping her breathing steady while trying to evaluate her level of pain: in truth, it felt like a menstrual cramp, just a rather sharp one. She could breathe and move easily enough, but where had this pain come from? Was it normal? There was no way to know. Her only experience with pregnancy was from entertainment – books and film – and there was never pain involved this early unless it involved miscarrying. Blindly taking her purse, she hurried down to the lobby to grab a taxi, doing her level best to hold her anxiety and tears at bay. Remembering how well-planned her original trip with Bria had been, Elizabeth knew the public hospital and emergency room were too far away to be of use for her. She asked her driver to take her to the nearby private facility that catered to the wealthy tourists, avoiding his eyes in the rearview mirror while she willed her mind not to take her to darker places until she had seen a doctor.

 _Please, please let everything be okay. Please, Mum, please help me with this now. I can't have this taken from me, too._

Less than an hour later, she was seated in a clean, modern exam room, alone and in a flimsy paper gown, the cramping abating for the most part but not her level of stress. After drawing her blood and taking her vitals, the nurse had handed her another bottle of water to drink; Elizabeth hadn't been paying attention to what the matronly woman was telling her so she wasn't sure why she needed to fill herself with more fluid. Grateful to finally be getting care and still wracked with guilt, Elizabeth simply complied without question. Now, as she waited endless minutes for a doctor to examine her, that half-empty bottle was her only companion. She could call Bria simply enough; as soon as she did, though, the little hypochondriac would be hunting the Internet for any information and not being shy with the details of what she discovered. Elizabeth knew she couldn't handle that right now. Father was, of course, out of the question as well. There was no one else she could ask to be with her now, over the phone if nothing else.

Or was there?

Her eyes strayed to the counter her purse sat on. The note with Will's number was in there, safely tucked into her wallet. She bit her lip, her fingers gripping the bottle tighter, as the idea took hold. He could take her hand in his. He could make this torture bearable. And if the worst should happen, he could hold her like he had the night this all began, as it all ended.

Maybe if she rang him right now he'd be able to…

 _No_ , she thought firmly, shaking her head to herself. _No, you can't do that to him. He's not a piece of catnip that you can pull out to play with whenever you feel like_.

Not even a day ago, she had pushed him out of her life, for the good of himself and his daughter. She couldn't drag him back into it just because she was scared. No matter how safe she had felt when his calloused hands had enfolded hers; no matter that she knew deep down – giving how considerate he was of others – that he'd drop whatever he was doing to be with her right now in this little room; no matter how much she **wanted** him here, she couldn't have him. So, she kept herself on the table and away from her purse, the white paper crinkling underneath her as she leaned back against it.

This was a test, the first of many tests she'd, with any luck, endure in the years to come. She had decided to do this by herself. She'd have to live with the consequences of that choice.

The door opened then and Elizabeth shot up, the reason she was here to begin with taking priority. The short woman with wire-rimmed glasses glanced quickly through a tablet she was holding before shaking her hand. "Good afternoon, Ms. Swann. I'm Dr. Hammond," she greeted her patient clinically. "I understand that you are pregnant and experiencing some abdominal discomfort, but no bleeding. Is that correct?" Elizabeth could only nod mutely. "Alright then. The results of your blood test will take a few hours to come back, but given that you took several home tests already that came back positive, I'm going to do a transvaginal ultrasound to evaluate the situation. We'll get a better image that way. Do you have a time frame of when you might have conceived?"

"F-February. Mid-February. I was here on holiday and I…I met someone." Dr. Hammond nodded and set about preparing the machine, motioning Elizabeth to lay back and put her legs in the stirrups. Staring at the ceiling, a mixture of worry and loneliness taking over, the words kept tumbling out of her mouth. "It was wonderful. He was wonderful. It's just we were both quite careless. Well, me more than him really. I almost pushed him down on the top of the bar the first time I saw him. I couldn't think of anything except having him because I knew, I absolutely knew how fabulous he'd be in bed and he was. Best I've ever had; best I ever **could** have, but it was…more. He was, I mean. He was so sweet. The way he held me, it was like I mattered to him, like I was special for some reason. He does that to me, makes me feel things I shouldn't. When I came here to tell him I was pregnant, I couldn't let myself say the words because I was having such a good time just talking and listening to his voice. That's what he does: he makes people feel good. He makes them feel better and…and he doesn't expect anything in return…" Elizabeth trailed off, Will's face as they sat together on the balcony in her mind.

How much of a monster must she be if she could hurt a man like that?"

Dr. Hammond wheeled the machine over and nodded. "He sounds like a good man," she replied, the slight detachment Elizabeth knew many busy medical professionals possessed evident in her voice.

"He's a wonderful man," Elizabeth corrected wistfully. "He's been through so much, far too much for someone his age. It's only made him stronger and kinder when it should have crippled him. It would have crippled me, for certain. And I would have liked very much for him to be…but he can't be. It can just never be. He lives here, I live in London. I couldn't ask him to do that. I can't make him bear such a burden, him or his daughter. He has a daughter, did I bloody mention that?" The doctor sat down beside Elizabeth on a stool and lifted the paper gown Elizabeth wore to expose her lower body. She barely noticed as the words kept spewing out. "He has a little girl named Lucy. I've never met her, but if she's anything at all like her father, I wish that I could. I wish I could see him as a father. I wish – OH!" The doctor inserted the lubricated probe inside of Elizabeth as gently as she could, but it was still jarring.

"Sorry about that. Just relax as much as you can." Trying to ignore the discomfort, Elizabeth did her best to follow the doctor's instruction. "Let's have a look then, shall we?" Flicking the screen on, the doctor manipulated the probe minutely, searching for something, her face completely passive, giving nothing away.

Elizabeth put her eyes back on the ceiling. She studied a small water spot in one of the corner panels, struggling to keep her fraying emotions contained, frozen and unable to even chatter on without a filter. When the doctor said nothing after a moment, Elizabeth's chin began to tremble, a tidal wave of shame crashing over her. "I lost it, didn't I?"

"Quite the contrary, Ms. Swann." Elizabeth felt a small bit of pressure on her wrist. The doctor was squeezing her, trying to get her attention. When she finally forced herself to look, Dr. Hammond was offering her a warm smile before pointing to the screen; through watery eyes, Elizabeth saw a small spot of grey – no bigger than a raspberry – amidst a white circle. Squinting, she could see it pulsating. "Right there is a very strong heartbeat."

"It is?" Elizabeth whispered, too edgy to hope or so much as shift. Pressing a few buttons, the doctor zoomed in on the spot. Elizabeth couldn't hold back her rush of breath. "Are those…They can't be...It already has…?"

"Hands and feet? It most certainly does. They'll be webbed for a few more weeks." The doctor smiled again. "I think he or she knows we're taking pictures. See right there?" Her finger went back to the screen. "You've got a wiggler. Your baby is waving hello at you."

Elizabeth's eyes grew large, transfixed to the screen and the spot that had suddenly become her sun; the thing her entire world revolved around. "My…My baby?"

"Yes, that is your baby."

 _My baby_ , Elizabeth thought to herself, a rush of awe and love overwhelming her to her core. _That's_ _ **my**_ _baby._

There had been an Elizabeth Swann that had walked into that exam room. She had been kind, witty, complicated, perhaps a bit indecisive about the direction of her life, and always carrying sadness that she tried very hard to ignore. But she was gone now, gone forever, though there were still traces of her in this new person that had been born when she saw her baby for the first time. Any space in her mind filled with thoughts of herself and what was best for her life were instantly erased, exchanged for what her baby needed and what was best for him or her. Her father and Bria, the two people who had dominated her heart for as long as she could remember? She happily shoved them aside to its farthest corners and still, she felt there was not enough space in it for her baby to reside. Baking, shoe shopping, pirate lore, the economy, global warming, the afterlife; anything she had ever thought mattered or would matter simply didn't anymore.

Her baby, her child and its future, was all she could see in front of her now.

Of its own accord, Elizabeth's hand reached out to the screen. With the most tender touch she could manage, her fingers caressed the tiny hand squirming about. "Hello," she murmured to it, tasting a tear on her wide smile. "Hello, little love. I'm your m-mother."

Dr. Hammond let her gaze on the image of her child for a bit longer before she hit another button on the machine. From its side, a piece of paper printed out and she carefully removed the probe from Elizabeth, who sighed as the image faded away. "As I said, everything looks like its progressing normally," she explained to Elizabeth when she had her attention. "The baby is developing on schedule and I see no abnormalities developing in it or your uterus. The cramping you were experiencing was likely just what we call growing pains."

"Growing pains?"

"Your uterus is expanding, getting ready to make room for the baby as it continues growing. As it does, muscles and organs are getting a little pinched as well. You'll continue to experience them over the next several weeks, but as long as the intensity of the soreness doesn't increase and you don't experience any significant bleeding, you don't need to worry." Picking up the tablet again, she read through the notes complied on Elizabeth. "Since you haven't started obstetric care in England yet, I'm going to write you a prescription for prenatal vitamins. They'll fill it here for you downstairs before you leave. You'll want to take them every day, first thing in the morning with a full meal." Her brow furrowed slightly. "Your blood pressure is a little high. Have you been under any undue stress?"

 _Ma'am, how much time do you have between patients?_

"Um, somewhat," Elizabeth said out loud, biting back a grin at her inner joke. "It's been an exciting couple of days."

"I see. Well, unless you have something pressing to get back to at home, I'd recommend you not travel for a few days, perhaps a week to be safe."

"Why? I thought you said everything was fine?" Fear overrode her happiness at a dizzying speed. "Are you sure there's nothing -?"

"You and your baby are fine, I assure you. I'd just like to see if we can get your blood pressure lowered a bit before you embark on a nine-hour flight over the Atlantic." She typed something quickly into the tablet. "Today is Wednesday. Come back first thing Monday morning after a long weekend relaxing on the beach and getting a full night's sleep so we can check it again. By then, you should be fine. The nurse will bring you in a note for your employer as well as some literature on the first trimester do's and don'ts. And…" Ripping the paper from the machine, she handed it to Elizabeth before getting up to leave. "We can't forget this now, can we? I'm sure you have family and friends at home who will want to see the baby's first picture."

 _No, not particularly._

Elizabeth sighed as she heard the door close. Bria would fake it for her sake, but she was far from maternal and Father…

The white-hot anger tasted more bitter than any medicine or booze Elizabeth had ever swilled. It was also fortifying at the same time because she knew in that moment that short of physically having her held down by ten men, there was nothing her father could ever do or say to make her consider an abortion. It helped her self-worth a fraction, but it did nothing whatsoever to improve her feelings toward Father. He wanted this gone. This gift, this wonder she finally had tangible proof of; he wanted her baby done away with. Fingering the image of her baby once more, she found that couldn't even think of him without wanting to smash through walls. So, with great care, she simply put him out of her mind.

There were much more important things to think about now, after all. Much happier things to delight in and plan for now that she was finally accepting of who she was from now on:

A mother. A mother arse over feet in love with her baby to the point she thought of little else.

And for the next two days, that's all she did think about. Aside from two clipped voicemails to James's phone and her office detailing her delay in returning to England because of medical advice, as well as longer and louder chats with Bria, Elizabeth's mind was dedicated to her baby. She consumed the literature from the doctor as she lounged on the beach. Her time in her room was spent on her laptop researching or making lists planning everything from names, nursery themes, nappy brands, and everything in between. Unable to help herself, she browsed the local shops for baby paraphernalia to get ideas of what she'd need to buy when she went back, almost going to pieces at the size of the socks. The few times she ventured out to the small cafes and restaurants to dine, her companion was the picture from her scan. She pulled that piece of paper out so much, it was beginning to fray slightly at the edges yet she couldn't stop looking at it in wonder. By some miracle, flourishing inside her every single minute was a piece of her that she'd get to love and watch grow for the rest of her life. The foolish grin on her face suddenly slipped and the mango smoothie she was sipping curdled in her stomach when the realization hit her, the weight of it like a backhanded slap across her cheek.

 _ **You'll**_ _get to see this piece of you grow up. The other piece that helped make it, though? Will won't get any of it…_

Now that he had broken through the baby blockade her mind had formed since her scan, he couldn't be ignored. It had been easier to let Will go when there was only herself to consider. How could she ask him for anything? How could she ask him to sacrifice to make her life a little easier? Except now it wasn't only her. There wasn't an "it" anymore, there was simply her child. What kind of mother would she be if let her child grow up without a father? How could she deny her child such an essential part of him or herself?

Such thoughts were too heavy for a small coffee shop. Putting the picture back in her purse, Elizabeth walked outside, her feet slowly finding their way to a park across the street cloaked by palm trees, children playing all over the brightly colored swings and slides in the late Friday afternoon sun. Plopping herself down on an empty bench, she watched them run and laugh with glee, envious of their innocence.

There were two separate and equal forces warring within her: the need to do what was best for her child and the desire to protect Will from the shambles she knew she'd bring into his future. He didn't deserve that kind of aggravation, but her baby deserved – nay **needed** – to know their father. One would have to be forfeited to appease the other. Either cost, though, would be staggering. Not to mention that bloody effing ocean that complicated things all the more. For someone who had worshipped pirates and the thrill of the sea since she was a child, it was perfect irony that the ocean was being so meddlesome in life right now. There was no way to easily co-parent with thousands of miles between the three of them. Neither of them could afford to skive off work every other week and then down the line, there was the baby's education to consider and how they would feel constantly being scuttled about being two different continents, and so many other things it made Elizabeth's head hurt.

There was no way around it: Will couldn't come to England so how could he be a part of–?

 _Why does he have to do all the work?_ Elizabeth blinked, almost physically trying to see where the thought had come from. _You're a modern woman, equal rights and all that rubbish. If you're so equal in creating the child, why should he have to be the one to make all the hard choices?_

What choice was there for her to make her? Her life was in London, everything she knew was there.

A job…that she hated.

Her one friend…who was quite brassed off with her at the moment.

Her father…who she was as likely to try to strangle now if saw him as hug.

 _Could I actually really just...?_

"Excuse me, Miss?" A sweet voice broke into the painstaking calculation Elizabeth was trying to figure out. Starting, she glanced to her side to see a little girl, her shirt and shorts a bit dirty from play. "I'm sorry, but could I please get my bear? He's lying beneath you."

"Oh." Elizabeth looked under the bench and reached down to pull a well-loved teddy bear from the ground. "What was he doing under there?"

"I didn't want him to get sunburned."

"No, we wouldn't want that," Elizabeth laughed. "That would be dreadful. Here you are."

"Thank you." She cuddled him close, the most adorable dimples breaking out with her smile and Elizabeth was enchanted. "Do you live in England?"

"I do, actually. How did you know?"

"The way you talk. You have an accent."

"Well, so do you, just not as strong as mine." There were many British expatriates living on all the Caribbean islands. The girl's parents were probably from back home. Tapping the bear's ear, she narrowed her eyes playfully. "What kind of accent does he have?"

"I don't know," the child shrugged, the headband holding her messy blonde hair back going askew. "My Auntie Ana got him for me. She's from somewhere in America so maybe he has an American one."

"Ah, he's a Yankee bear then, is he? You know, we Brits aren't supposed to be too keen on those tea-tossing Yanks."

"I do know that." She nodded sincerely. Without thinking, Elizabeth scooted a little to her right and the girl sat down beside her as if they were old friends. "Captain Jack calls them words I'm not allowed to say. He says they're the absolute worst."

"I hope I never meet this captain of yours then, for I myself am half American."

"How can you be a half of something?"

"It means that my father is English so that's one half of me and my mum was American so that's the other half." Clearing her throat loudly, she went on in a highly exaggerated accent, "See, I can even talk like one. It's making me so hungry, I am going to drive on the wrong side of the road to a fast food eatery and get twenty greasy cheeseburgers."

The little girl was in stiches and Elizabeth was well on her way to joining her. This was the first completely stress-free conversation she had had in days and it felt wonderful. When she finally calmed down somewhat, the girl declared, "You are silly."

"Actually, I am Elizabeth. What's your name?"

She opened her mouth to reply but closed it just as quickly. "I'm…not supposed to tell strangers my name."

"Oh, yes. That's very true. You were smart to remember that."

"I know!" Her eyes brightened and she hopped off the bench. "I can go ask my daddy to come here to meet you and then I can tell you my name. Wait here!"

Elizabeth watched her hurry off with a wide smile that paled quickly into nothing when she saw who the little girl had run off to across the park. As the little girl pointed back over to her, Elizabeth also realized she had gotten something she had been wishing for these last days:

She had met Lucy Turner in the flesh.


	8. Chapter 8

**This will be a short note for what ended up being the longest chapter. Thank you to everyone who continues to follow this story and takes the time to leave feedback. Please ignore my errors or badger me about them if they're egregious. I've been working on this for two days straight and I hope you all enjoy it.**

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Will was surprised when Lucy wanted to go to the park. Normally if given the choice, she'd spend sunrise to sundown frolicking in the waves and building crumbling castles in the sand. Not today, though; today after she had changed out of her school clothes, she had begged to go downtown to see the new playground that had just been constructed. Some of her classmates had talked about all the new equipment that couldn't compete with what they were used to in the schoolyard and Lucy had chattered on about it from the second her seatbelt was on when he picked her up. So even though there were more than a half dozen repair jobs laying around his work shed that needed his attention, he was spending his Friday afternoon sitting in the grass watching his daughter swing upside-down from the monkey bars, her hair nearly touching the ground as she merrily waved to him.

He hid the fact that his own smile was a bit forced behind a pair of sunglasses. It wasn't that he didn't love seeing her happy; he'd give up years of his life to make sure she was. It was that in the past three days, he couldn't look at his daughter without wondering of things beyond his grasp:

Would the baby be a boy or a girl? Would Elizabeth give them a traditional name or something more creative and trendy? Would they, as he strongly hoped, look like their mother? Would they be healthy? Would the sea call to them, as it had to him and Lucy? Would they be boisterous, like she was, or more reserved? Would they ask about him someday? Would Elizabeth tell them anything?

What could she even tell them if she wanted to?

And why, in the few moments since that night that he had let his mind be still, unencumbered by work or taking care of Lucy, did these questions never stop?

Anamaria had been waiting for him in his dark living room with a cold beer when he had finally made it back from the Strathwood, well after his friend had tucked Lucy in for the night. She let him drain half the bottle and sulk silently in a worn armchair she had found for him at a flea market before she spoke.

"She was the one from a couple of months ago, wasn't she? The time we kept Lucy overnight? The one you stayed with until morning, it was..."

"Elizabeth. Yeah, that was her."

"Did you get to talk to her?"

"Yeah."

"About what, William?" Anamaria never tolerated bullshit. Years with Jack had made it impossible.

"Well, the highlights were this: we were horribly irresponsible with birth control; phone calls are out to get us; I told her Lucy's name and all about Rebecca; she's leaving for London tomorrow; she'll send me papers to sign and I'll never see her again or meet my second child." He raised the bottle in her direction. "Cheers."

"You could fight her. She can't force you to sign away anything if you don't want to. We can take her to court and-"

"And say what? That a broke repairman on a remote island, who still hasn't figured out how to put a condom on since the first time he had a kid six years ago, is better suited to raise a child than an educated attorney with money from London?" Anamaria avoided his eyes. She didn't spew bullshit, either. He leaned his head back, exhausted. "It's for the best, I suppose."

"What about visitation? She could bring the kid down for the holidays and summers. They can know you and Lucy, know their family."

"Anamaria, I can't ask her to do that."

"Why not? Look at what you've done with Lucy, all by yourself. You are the best father that any kid could ask for. Why shouldn't you get to be a part of their life?"

"Because what happens when she finally meets someone? When she marries him? When he's the one there every night to…?" He emptied the rest of his bottle and fought the intense desire to fling it against the wall. The idea of this imaginary man who would get to hold Elizabeth at night after he put Will's son or daughter to bed made Will's blood boil with rage. "He'll be the dad. I'll be the guy who drags a child away from their family a few times a year. Tell me that I'm wrong."

Anamaria let the quiet hang in the air as her answer. After a time, she crossed to him, dropping a kiss on his temple. "I'm sorry."

"Does Jack know?" He felt her nod against his forehead. "Tell him I don't want to talk about it. Not now, at least."

"We'll be here when you do. All of us. Our whole little motley crew of bastards and bitches."

Despite his mood, he smiled to make his friend feel better. "We should get t-shirts made up."

"If it'll get you through this, I'll tattoo it on my forehead." She kissed him once more before getting up to leave. "You **will** get through this. You're too strong not to."

All he could do was hope she was right.

Still, days later, underneath a shining sun as his firstborn romped around the park to her heart's content, he still had his doubts. In a few months' time, a little boy or girl would come into the world that he had helped to create, but could never see or speak to; if he was strong enough to go on with his life as if that didn't matter to him, what kind of person did that make him?

One he certainly didn't want to have anything to do with.

"DADDY!" He only just pulled himself out his mood when Lucy ran into him, tackling him back to the grass. She laughed in his ear when he groaned playfully and he kept her pressed to him, her loose hair soft against his jaw. "I went across the bars five whole times in a row! FIVE! Is that a world record?"

"We'll have to check when we go home. You getting tired?"

"Nope. Can we just spend the night here?"

"Nope. Too many bugs and seagulls. They'd nibble at your cheeks and freckles until you didn't have anymore."

"I don't have any freckles, Daddy."

"No? You should get some then. All the cool kids have them these days."

"You don't know any cool kids. I'm the only kid you know."

 _Only one you ever will, at least._

Cradling the back of her head, he nestled her even closer. Feeling her heartbeat against his as they held each other nearly broke him. "I love you so much, Lucy Turner," he whispered to her. "You make sure I tell you that every single day. Throw something heavy at my head if I forget. Promise?"

"I promise." Wiggling in his arms, she turned so her back was against his chest and stared up at the sky. "Let's tell a cloud story."

"If you ask for one the right way, we can."

"Ugh…Daddy, you're impossible sometimes."

"Daughter, you are five going on forty-seven sometimes. Manners first, and then you get a story."

"Please, would you tell a cloud story with me?"

Smiling for real, he wrapped both arms around her and looked up with her at the voluminous white clouds floating above them until he found one. "See that one up there? The fat one that looks like Captain Jack's blue boat?"

"Uh-huh."

"It's not just a cloud. It's also a hotel, the finest hotel in the heavens. A hotel for…"

"Birds!"

"For birds? What do they need a hotel for?"

"Sometimes they get tired and there's no trees nearby for them to rest in, so they go and stay on the cloud hotel. It's called…"

"Cloud Nine?"

"No, it's not. That's too silly."

"Forgive me then. I didn't think a bird hotel could be too silly. You tell me what it's called."

"It's…" Her head tilted in deep thought. "The Nimbus Inn."

"Nimbus?" He pulled his glasses off to regard her curiously. "Where did you hear that word?"

"It was on one of the project boards outside the older kids' classrooms. I asked my teacher and she told me it had to do with clouds."

"You are such a smart girl, it drives me mad. Okay then," he looked back at the sky with her. "So, at the Nimbus Inn there's a big and fancy party being held tonight. It's in honor of…"

"Sir Randolph T. Bananapants. He invented an alarm for birds' nests. That way if another bird tries to steal something, the alarm goes off and the burglar bird gets caught." She took one of his hands and played with his fingers, gently bending them back and forth until they were locked with hers. "All the other birds in the world are so grateful, they're throwing a banquet for him. They're eating…"

"The finest seeds and worms in all the land, baked into the most delicious mud cakes and dirt puddings. Instead of champagne, they drink the dew from flowers out of the tiniest glasses."

"How? They don't have hands."

"Straws, of course. Like those swirly ones you drank milkshakes out of with Pintel and Ragetti. And at the end of the night, when all the food is eaten, before everyone goes off to their fluffy cloud rooms, all the birds raise their wings in toast to the illustrious Sir Randolph T. Bananapants."

"That was a good one." They laid together in silence for so long that Will wondered if Lucy was drifting off before she asked, "Did you tell cloud stories with your daddy when you were little like me?"

"No," he replied, running the fingers of his free hand through her hair. "I didn't have a father. I told them with my mum, your grandmother. She was very good at telling them. I hope I'm as good as she was," he added almost to himself, not thinking of stories when he did.

"You are," she assured him and for a moment – just a moment – Will felt peace before Lucy continued, "It's kind of funny, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"That you grew up with a mummy and no daddy, and I've got a daddy and no mummy. Isn't that funny?"

No, it wasn't. Not in the least. Even less so as he instantly remembered that the pattern would repeat itself with his next child. It was irony in its cruelest form, but he'd sooner pitch himself into open waters with no life jacket than ever say that to Lucy.

"What do you say we get going, sweetheart?" he told her instead, sitting them both upright and fixing her headband that had fallen by the wayside. "We can go to Tortuga for dinner. Miss Ivy will give the two of us her best table."

"Three, Daddy. Don't forget Felix."

"Well, where is he?" Will asked, looking around them. If that bear wasn't within six inches of her at bedtime, Lucy wouldn't get any sleep, which meant he wouldn't get any sleep.

"Under the benches. I had to leave him there before I started playing."

"Why?"

She shook her head with great disappointment. "Because he was being impossible, like you. He wouldn't put on any sunscreen. I'll go get him!" She raced off before he could stop her and he was left alone with his thoughts.

Never a good thing lately.

 _Treasure this time with her, William_ , a voice in his mind that sounded eerily like his late mother's commanded him. _She'll fly off on her own before you can take your next breath and these memories of her cloud stories will be all you have of her. Don't ever let them be wasted._

Suppressing a wistful sigh, he heaved himself up to collect his daughter from the busy park. Quickly spotting her, he started walking towards her. He didn't even make it a half step when his brain computed the startling image in front of him to reality:

Lucy was talking to someone at the bench she went to.

Lucy was talking to **Elizabeth**.

Elizabeth was talking back to her.

They were both smiling.

They both sat down.

They were laughing.

Lucy and Elizabeth were talking and laughing and…and together. They were side-by-side, something he had never pictured possible in even his wildest dreams. Will was amazed that the slight breeze hadn't knocked him on his arse yet.

They were both so beautiful he was afraid his heart would be spilt in two. Trying to get a grip on himself, a million and one questions collided in his mind all at once.

 _What the hell is happening? What is she still doing here? Was she following us? Did she leave and come back? Did she want to drop off the damn papers in person to make sure I'd sign them? Why did she need to see Lucy? Is she trying to get an idea of what our kid is going to look like? Why the hell isn't she back in London? Doesn't she understand what kind of torture this is? Why is dragging my daughter into this?_

It was the feel of said daughter's hand tugging on his own that shook him from his increasingly angry reverie.

"Daddy, come with me! You have to meet Elizabeth! She's funny and she's nice and she's English, but she's also American all that same time and I really want to tell her my name!"

"Wait, Lucy, we can't -"

"Hurry, before she forgets about me!" Either he had dropped to ten pounds in a minute or Lucy had gained the strength of a weightlifter in that same timespan. Whichever it was, Will was powerless to stop her from pulling him over to the bench.

They arrived there before he could even breathe and judging by the shell-shocked expression Elizabeth wore, it was clear she had never expected to see him again, let alone meet his daughter. It helped lessen his anger somewhat, if not his confusion. The child between them paid no mind to how stunned both adults were. Balancing Felix in her arms, she simply took both Will and Elizabeth's hands and brought them together to shake. "Daddy, this is Elizabeth. Elizabeth, this my daddy. His name is Will."

After a long pause, Elizabeth was the first to speak. "Hello," she said, her voice nearly mute.

"Um, hi," he managed to reply as he released her hand. Mindful of his inquisitive daughter looking back and forth between them, he remembered she was listening to every word they said and he addressed her, bending to her height. "We've…We've actually met before, Elizabeth and I."

"You have?"

"Yeah, we have. We met at, uh, Captain Jack's club a while ago. We're friends. Right, Elizabeth?"

"Yes," Elizabeth said slowly, her eyes asking Will what he was doing.

He knew it probably seemed crazy to her. In truth, it probably **was** crazy to not just pretend that she was a nice lady Lucy had happened upon in the park, but Will was resolute about never lying to his daughter, no matter the subject or how uncomfortable it made him. Lucy would always know she could trust him.

He understood firsthand how important that was.

"But how come I've never met her?" Lucy asked, frowning.

"Because Elizabeth was here on holiday. We met at the club one night and we…talked for a long time." Elizabeth's cheeks turned pink. There was nothing Will could do to stop his smile. That damned blush did it to him every time. "We, um, we got to be friends but because she was leaving so soon, I didn't think I'd see her again. That's why I didn't tell you."

"But he told me about you," Elizabeth suddenly said to Lucy, now her turn to catch Will by surprise. "He told me all about his wonderful little girl named Lucy that he loved more than anything in the entire world. In fact, he said you were so wonderful that I just had to come back here from England for a short visit to meet you myself." Holding out her hand to Lucy this time, they shook as she continued, "I just wasn't sure exactly what you looked like. That's why I didn't tell you when we met. Now I do and it's very, very nice to meet you, Lucy Turner. I am Elizabeth Swann."

"Like the bird! My teacher, Miss Christina, read us a story about swans yesterday and now you're here today. That's really neat."

"I guess it was fate then."

"What's fate?"

"It's…It's when something happens because it's meant to happen," Elizabeth explained, smiling so sweetly at Lucy that he found he couldn't look away. "Even when we don't always understand it, when something very important is supposed to happen, there's nothing anyone can do to stop it. That's what fate is."

"Is that true, Daddy?" He couldn't turn away from Elizabeth's eyes, the brown of her irises tinged with nerves, she herself a breathtaking statue on the bench, until he felt Lucy's hand shaking his shoulder. "Is that what fate means?"

"Y-Yeah, that's just what it means, Lucy-Goosey." He had to talk to Elizabeth alone. He absolutely had to. "Say, you know what I just remembered? I think I read somewhere once that the world record for the monkey bars was eight or nine times across in a row. That means you haven't broken it yet. If you want, you could -"

"Please hold Felix for me," she said to Will, handing the bear over. As she marched back determinedly to the playground, she called over her shoulder, "And please put lots of sunscreen on him, no matter how much he cries."

"You bet," he said offhandedly, his attention wholly on the woman in front of him. Before he could open his own mouth, the words came sputtering out of Elizabeth's.

"I'm so sorry, Will. I had no idea she was Lucy. She just…She came up to me and we started chatting. She's brilliant, completely brilliant, and it was the best talk I've had in days because I wasn't hiding anything from her or disappointing her or trying to find a way to explain myself. I didn't mean to make you -"

"You didn't leave," he cut in. Taking his time, gauging her reaction the whole way, he joined her on the bench, putting the toy in between them as a sort of buffer.

"Uh, no. I didn't, or rather I couldn't. The doctor told me I shouldn't fly for a few days so I've been hunkered down at my hotel."

"Why did you need to see the doctor?" His eyes roamed over her body while his heart dropped down to his stomach. "Is everything-?"

"Everything's fine," she rushed to assure him. "I had some pain, but the doctor said it was normal and that there was nothing to worry about. I'm fine." Shifting her gaze away from him, her eyes landed on poor Felix, fingering the plush material nervously. "The baby's fine, too. There's…There's a very strong heartbeat."

It was a baby now. It was finally real to her, not just a concept or something in the abstract that was coming down the line. He was glad she was embracing it with arms open. As frightening and exasperating as it was at times during those months of waiting, he remembered well how just the idea of Lucy would make him break out into foolish grins at the drop of a hat, the giddiness he felt needing some avenue of escape. He'd look at pictures of her in the womb through the hazy screen of a…

"You had a scan already?" She nodded, her eyes lighting softly at the memory. He couldn't help but feel a bit wounded. That one scan was something else – the first in an endless list of events – that he wouldn't be able to be a part of. He had to brush it aside. It wasn't fair to burden her when neither of them could change the course they were on. "And the doctor was sure everything was okay?"

"Yeah, she said the baby looked great. Very healthy and normal. She just thought my blood pressure was a little high." Something gave her the courage to meet him head-on and she gave him a smile gently filling with mirth. "Apparently, I've been under a bit of stress these last few days."

She was utterly impossible, Elizabeth Swann was. Thankfully, according to his daughter, so was he and Will found himself grinning along with her after a moment. It was all he could do. If he didn't find some sort of levity in their situation, he'd end up screaming himself raw. When their quiet laughter abated, Elizabeth picked up the bear, rolling him around in her hands before glancing over at his owner; even from the distance, it was easy to see her look of steely determination as Lucy swung back and forth.

"She's gorgeous," Elizabeth told him simply.

"That she is."

"I do have to admit, all the times that I pictured her, I didn't think she'd be so fair-haired." Will cocked his head slightly. Did she just confess how deep her curiosity with his daughter and he ran? "I mean, I do see some of you in her; especially in her smile," she continued. "The rest of her isn't what I imagined. Very lovely, just different."

"She's mostly my mother. It's uncanny. I saw it as soon as the nurse handed her to me. Her eyes were so spot-on, I nearly dropped her. They could've been twins if not for the hair. That she got from Rebecca."

"Ah." They watched Lucy play in companionable silence. "Does Lucy get to see her often? Your mother, I should say, not Rebecca."

For a flash, he could've sworn he saw her lips curdle slightly when she said the name of the woman who had both blessed and cursed him. "No, my mother died before I left England."

"Of course." She shook her head, clearly upset with herself. "You told me that on the pier. I should've remembered. I've just -"

"Been under a bit of stress?" He smiled to show her he wasn't offended and she gave him one in return.

"Yes, that is true. Is your father gone as well?"

It was true enough for Will that he didn't feel guilty for lying. "Yeah, years ago. Before Lucy was born. What about you? Your parents still alive?"

"Just my father. My mother…died when I was young." She nodded towards Lucy. "I was only a little older than her when it happened."

There was a story there. A long illness or some horrible accident perhaps. Something about her mother's death had marked her early, a mark that she carried it to this day. "I'm sorry."

"I've been having dreams about her, ever since I found out I was pregnant. More so than I have in years. Isn't that awful? I didn't even realize how much I missed my own mother until I found out I was going to be one."

"At least you still have your father," he said quietly, hoping that would help.

It most decidedly did not.

"My father. My dear father…" She sighed deeply, pressing Felix lightly against her stomach. "He wants me to have an abortion," she whispered, her voice barely carrying the foot or so he sat away from her.

"Excuse me?" He had heard her wrong or she had misspoken. There was a blip in communication somewhere.

There was no possible way her own father had said…

"He thinks I'm too young," she continued, confirming his horror at what she had been left to deal with on her own. "He's too wrapped up in how our stupid 'society' is going to see me as an unwed mother, how it all reflects on him. And I suppose he thinks…Frankly, I don't know what the hell he's thinking. He just can't accept this. I'll be the size of a blimp in front of him and he'll probably tell people I have a bloody thyroid condition instead of bragging about his first grandchild."

 _No, he won't. He won't get to tell anyone that because there's no way that fucking bastard is getting anywhere near his first grandchild…_ _ **my**_ _child._

As quickly as they formed, Will knew his thoughts were for naught. It wasn't his place to protect her or their child. Despite the instincts that screamed it was his job, his duty, to keep them both safe from any threat, even one related to her, it wasn't what Elizabeth wanted of him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, pushing his rage as far down as it could go.

It still wasn't deep enough for her father to be safe around him anytime soon.

"It's going to be all right, Will." Facing him again, she laid a tentative hand over his. "I'm not going to let anything happen to this baby."

He wanted to believe her. He **needed** to believe her. She exuded strength and conviction sitting here on this bench with him, but what would she do when her plane touched down in London days from now? It was obvious from how she spoke of him that her father was a formidable man, a man she rarely challenged. Would he be able to pressure her? To make her succumb to his wants and desires at the expense of her own?

Could Will live with himself if he let her take that chance?

 _I know I could find work in London. I'll take anything I can get. Jack's gotta have a connection there. And Lucy's young enough that she could adjust to –_

"How many times was it?" Lucy herself asked him, completely out of breath as she clambered onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder. "It was at least a hundred, right?"

Elizabeth let go of his hand at once. Their connection severed, along with his musings on how to make their situation work.

It wasn't his place, after all.

"Felix was being very naughty," Elizabeth answered Lucy, passing her the toy. "I'm afraid I had to give him a time out and we weren't paying enough attention. You definitely made it to at least thirty-three, though, so the world record is yours."

"Good. As for you, young man," she held Felix up to her nose, "no dessert for you tonight. Elizabeth can have yours and you must watch. That's your punishment."

"Oh Lucy, I'm sorry, but I can't come to dinner with you and your dad."

"Why not?" She furrowed her brow at Will. "She's invited, isn't she?"

"I'd love to," Elizabeth tried to explain. "I really would, I just don't want to intrude -"

"Of course, she's invited," Will interjected, looking Elizabeth dead in the eye she studied him, trying to figure out what he wanted. That was simple: with what he had learned about what was facing her in London, letting her out of his sight before he absolutely had to wasn't something he could do. "She's more than welcome to come with us. Besides, she's leaving in a few days and we can't have her going back home without dining at Tortuga, now can we?"

 _Give me a few more hours, Elizabeth_ , he begged her wordlessly, not looking away. _Let me have this. Give me this time so you can tell our baby someday that we all had a meal together once. Give us one family dinner, please._

At Elizabeth's continued silence, Lucy pouted her lips, pleading, "Please come with us. We'll have fun. You can even have Daddy's dessert if you want."

That finally sealed it. Grinning broadly, Elizabeth nodded and the three of them set off from the park, Lucy immediately taking Elizabeth's hand in hers and striking an easy conversation while Will hung back a bit, watching the pair of them together, his heart splitting happily at the sight.

They stayed like that all the way to the restaurant. Lucy had insisted Elizabeth sit with her in the backseat. The two of them then spent the whole ride giggling over Lucy's description of her school day and playing a game on Elizabeth's phone, Will watching them occasionally from the rearview mirror, completely ignored. Not that he cared in the least. He was so amused by their antics and girlish squeals of laughter that he almost forgot to be mortified driving around someone like Elizabeth – no doubt used to luxury SUVS and sport's cars – in the rusted-out piece of shit that still functioned well enough for him to use safely.

Almost.

Before he let himself get too self-conscious, they arrived at Tortuga, a non-descript hole in the wall that skirted the downtown area. The thatched roof and lack of signage kept some of Arbor Bay's best food hidden from the tourists and the locals flocked to it, especially on a Friday night. Will lifted Lucy into his arms as the three entered the crowded waiting area. He was still trying to make his way to the hostess when he heard a familiar voice call his name:

"William Turner! What are you doing trying to hide that little girl away from me?" Tortuga's owner, Ivy Morris, came out from the buzzing dining room and snatched a willing Lucy out of his grip. "She is getting so big now! What is your papa feeding you, Miss Lucy?"

"Nothing as good as what you serve here, I promise."

"Where'd all your hair go?" Lucy asked, rubbing Ivy's dark scalp that had, until recently, held a head full of dark curls.

"It was hot out and I got bored," she explained, kissing Lucy's cheek. "Maybe I'll let it grow back, maybe I won't. What I will do is bring you and your papa to sit down and eat right now."

"No, we can wait our -"

"I don't want to have to smack you in front of your daughter so stop saying foolish things, William." She whispered to one of her waiters and motioned Will to follow. "Come, you two get only the best here."

"Three." He took Elizabeth's hand and tugged her forward. "Three of us tonight, if that's not a problem. This is Elizabeth."

Ivy managed to keep her features schooled in front of Lucy, but he could see the questions in her charcoal eyes and he was sure Elizabeth did as well. It was only natural. He never brought women here. He never brought women anywhere period. The only logical conclusion for Ivy to make was that Elizabeth was someone special.

Which, of course, she was.

"No, it's no problem at all. Pleasure to meet you," Ivy replied, leading them through the maze of packed tables and wait staff to the back. To Elizabeth, she said, "Miracle workers like William should have the world handed to them on silver platters lined with rubies."

"I fixed her car," he clarified to Elizabeth as he pulled out her chair at a secluded table. "Simple transmission repair. That's all."

"Don't let him get away with that nonsense." Ivy deposited Lucy in a chair with a small booster seat. "He's a miracle worker and I'll line up at least a hundred people in this town that will testify to that. He's saved more cars, boats, and homes than he can count. Barely even charges a penny for it."

Will rolled his eyes as he sat down himself. "Fallacies. The woman speaks fallacies."

"Really?" Elizabeth challenged, quirking an eyebrow. "Because I have a strong suspicion she's telling the gospel truth, William."

Will ducked his head and Ivy laughed out loud. "Oh, she's feisty. I like her already. What can I bring the feisty lady this evening? We serve the best rum within two hundred miles."

"Water's fine, thank you" Elizabeth said demurely, picking up her menu.

"Same for me," Will added before Ivy could get curious.

"Can I have rum?" Lucy piped in from her seat.

"No. You," Ivy squeezed the tip of her nose, "may have a peach smoothie, like always. I'll have them sent right out." Blowing them all a kiss, she sauntered off gracefully into the Friday night chaos.

"She's so nice," Elizabeth said.

"She's amazing," Lucy corrected, sitting Felix in her lap and covering him with her napkin like a blanket. "Her desserts are better than birthday cake. And she's got such a pretty name."

"Hey, I gave you a pretty name. The prettiest name I could think of."

"He did," Elizabeth agreed wholeheartedly. "I think he gave you a perfect name. Lucy is a magnificent and regal, fit for a princess. Not to mention, you have such a lovely song to sing about yourself."

"I do?"

"You do not know your own song?" Elizabeth's mouth dropped open. When Lucy shook her head, Elizabeth clucked her tongue in indignation, pulling her phone and a pair of small earpieces out of her purse. She opened an app, searching, and Will glanced at the screen when she found what she was looking for. He smiled when he saw "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds" pop up. "Here, have a listen."

Taking the device, he gently fitted his daughter with the earpieces and pressed play. "That isn't actually what she was named after," he told Elizabeth.

"Still, how could you not have played this song for her every day? She should be able to sing this in her sleep."

"I thought it best to focus on the important things first."

"And what, may I ask, is more important than the Beatles' song catalogue?"

"Potty-training, for one. Then the alphabet, dressing one's self, holding her breath underwater…"

She grinned at his cheek, turning back to her menu. "So really, what's good here?"

"Everything. Stay away from the jerk spice if you're adverse to heat. Ivy doesn't kid around with it. Other than that, you can't go wrong. Unless," he checked quickly to make sure Lucy was still listening to her music, "is there anything you can't…tolerate right now?"

"Eggs," she admitted.

"Really?"

"Yup. Can't even be in a room when someone's cooking them anymore."

"That's too bad. I myself make a somewhat passable omelet on occasion."

"Is that so?"

Their drinks and complementary fried dumplings arrived, ending their teasing banter. Without meaning to, they had stumbled into casual flirting. By the look on her face, Elizabeth realized it at the same time he did. Before any awkwardness set in, Lucy pulled the earpieces out, giggling.

"I loved my song! Am I a girl with kaleidoscope eyes, Daddy?"

"No," he told her, giving Elizabeth her phone back. "You have your grandmother's eyes, my mother's eyes. I saw them when you were born and named you after her."

"See? It's just like I told you, Lucy Turner. Your father gave you the perfect name," Elizabeth said, elegantly popping a dumpling into her mouth.

If there was ever a time that Will had wanted a woman more in his life, he couldn't recall it. It was only the presence of Lucy at the table that prevented him from laying Elizabeth atop it, a restaurant full of patrons be damned. For years, he had kept his intimate relationships – sparse as they were – totally separate from his everyday life with his daughter. It was why casual hookups and nothing more was his mantra with women. He was deliberate in picking only ones that would leave quickly so as not to risk forming any sort of attachment, not for their sakes, but his own. There was no way for them to ever coexist with his relationship with Lucy, no way he could ever see the pieces fitting together. It would be too much work for all involved.

Only he had been wrong. Idiotically and completely wrong because with Elizabeth, it was effortless. If he had been an outsider walking up by their table as the three of them dined on seafood, papaya salad, and a small shared pot of Ivy's scrumptious goat stew, it would have been impossible to tell that they hadn't all known each other for years, such was their comfort with one another. Lucy, never a shy child to begin with, maintained a monopoly on the conversation and her stories and observations seemed to captivate her new companion; so much so that Will would have begun to feel very snubbed if he wasn't enraptured by the sight of Elizabeth scooting her chair closer to Lucy's as the meal went on, filling the girl's head with everything from old pirate tales, her favorite films from childhood, and descriptions of what England look like in each season.

"Are there really Christmas trees everywhere there in winter?" Lucy asked when their mouthwatering bread pudding was set in front of them for dessert. "We never have real ones here because it's too hot. But you get to see them all the time during the holidays?"

"Everywhere the eye can see. My favorite part is the smell, though. You feel like you're walking in a fairy forest sometimes because of the freshness in the air and all the twinkling lights. It's my favorite time of the year in London. When it snows and everything is pristine and white, there's nothing more beautiful in the world than an English Christmas." She smiled quickly back at Will. "Isn't that true?"

 _No, it isn't_ , he thought, staring adoringly at the two ladies in front of him, reveling in their treats and each other's company. _An English Christmas doesn't hold a candle to this._

Yet as beautiful as the moment was, as much as he wanted to bottle it and never let it go, it wouldn't last. There was no way it could. Almost as if his thoughts had life, their plates were finally empty and the evening was coming to a close.

"I need to go to the loo please," Lucy told him, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

Before he could move, Elizabeth stood. "I can take you," she said, lifting the girl from her seat. "I've got to go, too." Suddenly nervous that she had crossed a line, she turned to Will. "Is…Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I'll, uh, just settle the bill with Ivy." Making sure they were heading in the right direction of the restroom, Will walked through the still packed room over to the wait station where Ivy was.

"I hope your meal was to your satisfaction, William," she told him, not looking up from the paperwork she was filling out.

"Always is." He reached for his wallet, but didn't make it far when Ivy smacked him sharply on the hand. "I fixed your bloody car over three years ago, Ivy. Surely by now, I owe you."

"The car was three years ago, but the oven hood out back was two years later and my mother's air conditioner was only a few months ago. You know, you do such a good job taking care of everyone else there's nothing wrong with letting the world take care of **you** every once in a while."

"Thanks," he said, his discomfort at relying on someone else for anything – even something as simple as dinner – evident in his demeanor.

Changing the subject, she said, "Your Elizabeth is quite lovely."

His heart skipped a beat at Elizabeth being referred to as his. "She's just a friend," he denied, to Ivy as much as himself. "She's leaving in a couple of days to go home to London."

"Really? Hmm…that's interesting."

"Why?"

"Because she seemed very much at home with you and Miss Lucy tonight." She looked pointedly over his shoulder as she started back towards the busy kitchen. "And Miss Lucy seems quite taken with her as well."

He turned around to Elizabeth coming back towards him, Lucy in her arms, the girl's head resting on her shoulder with Felix tucked between them. "She's totally knackered," Elizabeth told him, one hand smoothing down Lucy's hair.

"I-I'll take her," he said, reaching for his daughter. Something about seeing her so comfortable in Elizabeth's embrace unsettled him.

Elizabeth shook her head and began making her way towards the exit. "No, she's fine. I've got her."

"I'm fine, Daddy," Lucy herself said quietly, tightening her hold around Elizabeth's neck.

"You shouldn't be lifting anything," he whispered in Elizabeth's free ear as he followed them outside into the cooling night.

"She's light as a feather, Will, and she smells better than any Christmas tree in the world. We're fine."

There was such longing in her gentle words that he couldn't refuse her. "Alright." When they finally reached his car, he opened the backseat for them. "To the Strathwood then?"

"No, you don't have to. I rang for a cab in the loo."

"It's really no problem. You don't have to waste your money on a…" Lucy's loud yawn cut him off and Elizabeth smiled sadly at him.

"You need to get her home to bed. She's had quite a day."

"I'm not tired," Lucy tried to argue, her words muffled by another yawn.

"Well then, you're doing an excellent impression of someone who is." Elizabeth squeezed her more firmly. "It was an absolute joy to meet you, Lucy. Your father is a very lucky man to have you for a daughter. I hope he knows that."

She lifted her head to regard Elizabeth with sleepy eyes. "Do you really have to go back to London so soon? There's loads of fun things we can do together here."

Will could clearly see the ache etched across Elizabeth otherwise lovely face and for a moment, he felt awful for letting them spend this time together. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind Lucy's ear and tried to reclaim her cheer. "If you do all those fun things with me, then poor Felix here will be terribly lonely and left out. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

A yellow cab pulled up to the curb opposite them before Lucy could answer and honked loudly.

 _Another clock striking midnight_ , Will thought ruefully, only this one hurt much more. He was losing something of far greater value this time and so was Lucy, only she had no way of knowing it.

"Time to say goodnight," he said, for all their benefit.

Lucy and Elizabeth hugged one another closely. The child murmured something in Elizabeth's ear; whatever it was, it was enough to give Elizabeth's smile a bit of a lift. "You be a good girl for your father," she told her as she reluctantly handed her and her bear back to Will.

"She always is."

"I have no trouble believing that." As if she couldn't help herself, she trailed her fingers one last time through Lucy's blonde hair. Will caught her hand in his when she reached the tips of it. "Thank you. For letting me know her a little bit."

"I just…" He had to be careful with his words in front of Lucy. "You know, I just thought someday there might be someone you'd want to…I thought I'd give you a story you could tell them about her one day."

He could tell there was something Elizabeth wanted desperately to say right now to him; something right this instant that needed to come out, but the cab honked it's horn again and whatever she had wanted to say vanished into her mind. If it wasn't cab horns and ringing phones, it was oceans and responsibilities keeping them apart. Something always got in their way.

He supposed it was fate just making sure they got on with their lives.

"Goodbye, Will." She turned on her heel before he could speak and hurried off to her ride. He watched her go with Lucy in his arms, the taillights of the cab long gone by the time he forced himself to move.

He had strapped Lucy into her belt and made sure Felix was secure in her arms when she spoke. "Daddy?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"I liked Elizabeth."

"I know you did. She liked you, too. You saw how nice she was to you all night, didn't you?"

"Uh-huh. That was one of the best things about her."

"What was the other?"

"How much she made you smile."

He crouched down near the pavement to meet her eyes as they began drifting shut. "What do you mean? I smile all the time with you. Don't I?"

"It was a different smile for Elizabeth. I liked it." Her eyes finally shut for good, her breath evening out, as he tried to understand what she was telling him in her innocent way.

A hint of something on the floor caught his attention as he pondered his daughter's words. Reaching for the small blank piece of paper, the edges a little worn. He flipped it over to see what it was and wished at once that he hadn't:

Elizabeth's first and last name was typed in the corner, along with a date and other numbers Will paid no mind to. All he could see was the image in the center: a tiny blurb of a thing that, according to Elizabeth, already had a very strong heartbeat.

He hadn't cried in years. Who had the time for it, between bustling his daughter through her day and working himself to the bone? Now, holding the tangible physical proof of his unborn child with Lucy sleeping peacefully right in front of him, he swiped angrily at his eyes, feeling the moisture gathering in them to his disgust. Tear were not what he needed right now. Shutting the passenger door, he went to the front seat and climbed in, knowing exactly what he had to do.

He needed to get home and put his daughter into her warm bed; settle her in after her exciting night of making a new friend before setting her back into her routine, into **their** routine, just him and her. Then, in the morning, he'd drop that damned picture off at the front desk of the Strathwood so he could begin the process of letting go, of returning to life as he knew it before that night at the Black Pearl.

It was the right thing to do.

It was what was best for everyone.

It was what his fate demanded of him.

Who was he, a disillusioned repairman with no prospects, to question his fate?

Yet, that night, sleep alluded him. Even as his eyes burned and his head throbbed, he couldn't put the damned picture down.

 _Try again tomorrow_ , he told himself, clutching the picture to his chest. _You'll be stronger in the morning._

That was a lie, too. Every time he tried to put the image from the scan in an envelope, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He'd sneak away into the bathroom or his shed when Lucy was occupied, letting himself get lost in staring at the new life, trying to see into the future; pictures of a rambunctious girl with Elizabeth's eyes scampering in the surf or an eager boy with Lucy's eyes trying his best to catch his first fish fascinated him to no end all through Saturday and Sunday and his resolve weakened each time he held that piece of paper, his fingers holding onto the same spots that Elizabeth herself had as she gazed at her child.

At **their** child. Their child, and Will knew letting go wasn't an option. He just couldn't see a way to keep them, either. All he knew was that when those dreaded papers came, he wasn't signing them.

He wasn't sure how, but he was going to be a father to that child, no matter what Elizabeth wanted of him.

There were still no answers come Monday morning as he hunched over a workbench at the shop, trying to keep his concentration on a dilapidated transmission that refused to shift into gear. A firm tap on his back brought him back to the world.

Samuel motioned to the door. "You have a visitor out front. A pretty one."

Wiping his dirty hands on a rag, he walked outside and stopped short to find Elizabeth sitting on an overturned crate, rhythmically tapping her fingers against it, as she looked out into the ocean.

She quickly got to her feet when she heard him, straightening her distractingly short dress. "I'm sorry. I know this is your job and it's a huge violation of privacy, but I phoned Ivy at Tortuga and she told me that you worked here. I-I didn't want to come by your house because that's even creepier than this already is and I -"

"Here." He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the picture, holding it out for her. "I meant to…I should have brought it back to you before now. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." She took it, refusing to look at him. "You always apologize, even when you have no cause to."

"What are you doing here, Elizabeth?"

"I went to the doctor this morning. I've been cleared to fly back. My flight's in a couple of hours."

"Look, I know that this isn't…" He gestured helplessly between them. "There's no way to do this cleanly. You belong in London and I don't, but I can't -"

"I don't want to go back." She finally peered up at him through her long lashes, giving him time to reply. When he didn't, when he physically couldn't, she kept going. "Ever since I saw what was in this picture, all I've wanted is to do what's best for them and…and you're what's best for them, Will. You're their father and you should be a part of their life, a huge part of it. I mean, look at what you've done with Lucy. She's a treasure. She's perfect in every way and that's all you."

"I…I haven't done anything…special or…"

"Yes, you have. You're amazing. I could never in a million years with all the help in the world raise that girl as well as you have. You're a wonderful father and that's what I want my baby to have. Our baby should have that. Especially considering I'm probably going to muck everything up. I have no idea how to do anything a mother should. Do you know I can't even do my effing laundry? I've had a maid my whole life. Never done one load of laundry and now I'm supposed to have a baby by myself?"

He took her shoulders, stilling her. Every word coming out of her mouth was mana from heaven, effusing him with a hope for the future that he hadn't felt possible in days. Hell, in years. Still, he had to be sure. He had to know she wasn't giving him this gift only to rip it away later on, when he really wouldn't survive it.

"Elizabeth, you don't have to uproot -"

"I hate my job. My best friend is wonderful, but exhausting. My father…" Unconsciously, his hold on her tightened, trying to protect her from whatever feelings the mere thought of that asshole stirred in her. Smiling to herself, she handed Will back the picture and put a hand on her stomach. "This is the only family that matters to me right now. I'll do whatever I have to for it. If that means finding work and a place to live in a small Caribbean port town so my baby can know their father, then that's what I have to do."

She was…She was Elizabeth. Simply Elizabeth, and if thought he had wanted her the other night at the restaurant, he had been a fool.

Now wasn't the time though. She had had a week of life-changing decisions to agonize over and the last thing she needed or wanted was to be pressed up against the wall of the shop while he kissed her senseless.

Instead, he had something else he could give her.

"I have a room," he said slowly, keeping his eyes on the picture of their baby, their future. "At my house, I have an extra room. It's yours for as long as you want it."

Will never got a verbal answer from her, but he understood her perfectly when she flung her arms around his neck and embraced him.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Okay, these chapters are getting a little ridiculously long at this point. You guys seem to enjoy them, though, so I'll keep cranking them out. Please forgive any mistakes you might find and thank you to everyone for your amazing feedback. We're getting into the real meat of this little story so I hope you all have fun where I take. Thanks again!**

* * *

 _Dear Father,_

 _I know there have been many harsh words between us in the last week or so, more than in the entirety of our relationship. Please understand that the choices I've made are not out of spite for you, but rather out of a desire to see my child prosper. They need their father for that. Will Turner is their father and he will be an excellent one, as he has been to his daughter for nearly six years now. I am certain you would greatly admire him if you ever met him, which I hope very much will happen one day soon._

 _This is one of the scariest things I have ever done in my life. Going against your wishes does not bring me any joy. Nothing would make me happier than for you to be the first person, after Will and myself, to hold your grandchild as you are the only grandparent they will ever have. Perhaps with the benefit of time, you will come to see what a blessing this child will be for all of us. Our family has been you and I for so long. To be able to at last grow it is an enormous gift. If she were alive, Mum would think so to._

 _Bria has my address if you wish to write and my phone number will not change. Please do not hesitate if there is something that you wish to share with me. Until then, I will be taking good care of myself and your grandchild._

 _I love you greatly, Father. Always remember -_

"Is it perfect yet or do you think you're going to need a twelfth draft to get it right?"

Her pen remained poised over her notepad, her thought disrupted. Elizabeth glared sideways at Bria; the smacking of her chewing gum was the other woman's mature reply. Pushing the irritating sound out of her mind, Elizabeth finished her letter, signed it, and sealed it in an envelope. Digging into Bria's purse, she shoved aside the myriad of junk to find a clean spot and left it there.

"Someday, you're going to tour the Tower of London and make off with the Crown Jewels in this thing." She picked up a magazine, checking again to see if the gridlocked traffic had moved at all as they made their way to Heathrow, before flicking through the pages blindly. "When it happens, don't call me for bail money."

"Why would I? You'll be too busy slumming it in the Caribbean, popping out bairns to even remember my name."

"For such a smart person, Briana Morag McKendrick, very stupid things fly out of your trap sometimes."

"Well, while we're on the subject of very stupid things, can I say one more time -"

"You may not."

"- that a week is not long enough to thoughtfully consider all of the pros and cons of moving to -"

"Bria, this the last time we'll see each other for a while. Do you really want to spend it fighting?"

"I'm Scottish, what the hell do you think?"

Sighing, Elizabeth put her magazine down and moved as close to her friend as the backseat allowed, wrapping both arms around her. Her ire disappeared when Bria leaned into the hug, resting their heads against each other. "I'm going to miss you madly. You know that, don't you?"

"We haven't gone more than three days without seeing each other in nearly twenty years. Now you're going to be living in a different time zone than me, over nine hours away." She sniffled softly. "Why are you doing this to me, Lizzie?"

"Because I'm having a baby."

"I thought I was your baby?"

"No, you're my best girl in the whole world. An ocean won't change that."

"Maybe not the ocean, but Sexy Bar Man and his flaxen-haired lovechild might."

Elizabeth pulled back and took Bria's chin firmly in her hand. "Will and Lucy," she said, enunciating each syllable. "I'm not going to tell you again, young lady."

Bria turned serious under her friend's frown. "Are you sure they're really worth all this? I mean, honestly? I hate that you're leaving. I'm going to go barmy without you here, but if you think you're doing the right thing, I'm behind you all the way. Just tell me you've thought everything through."

"He's a good man, Bria. A good, hardworking, caring man who worships that girl. And she is…" Elizabeth beamed as she remembered the peals of laughter that erupted from Lucy at the slightest provocation. "You'll adore her when you meet her."

"It sounds like you already do."

Elizabeth shrugged and picked up her magazine, leafing through it as traffic began to inch along. "It's hard not to."

"She's a lot like her father then, huh?"

Elizabeth ignored the comment, just as she had the numerous others Bria had made regarding Will since she had flown back to London to settle her affairs. She had taken her original flight that Monday after leaving Will and through a whirlwind of packing and increasingly tense conversations with her father, Elizabeth was on her way back to Arbor Bay that Friday, exactly one week after the best dinner of her entire life. She had dined with esteemed leaders, European royalty, holy figures, and men who could buy whole countries five times over alongside her father, but that night at Tortuga with Will and Lucy was in a world all its own. The gamut she had run that night was dizzying. Her joy as they all laughed together at the table was matched by the sorrow she had felt turning away from them to get into her cab; the heat she had felt pumping through her blood from Will taking her hand was equally as powerful as the warmth blanketing her heart when she held Lucy in her arms; and the lightness of her spirit when Lucy and Will would both give her that same wondrous smile they shared was rivaled only by the utter confusion she felt in her soul when she laid awake that night in her hotel room, staring at the ceiling, her hand unable to stop caressing her stomach. They were all she thought about the rest of the weekend, so much so that she was nervous going back to see Dr. Hammond, worried that her blood pressure would still be too high to safely travel. It was only after being giving a clean bill of health that she understood the true cause of her distress: Elizabeth had wanted it to be too high. Well, not really. Not if it meant there was a danger to the baby, but it would have given her an excuse to stay a bit longer.

She had wanted to stay. She wanted to see both Will and little Lucy again. She wanted…

She wanted her baby to have their family, their whole family. Will and Lucy were that family and when she thought of it in those terms, she would have moved into a damp cove all by herself to stay on that island with them. Tracking down Will after her decision, she had expected him to be shocked and hopefully happy with her choice; she had never once expected that he would offer her a room, a home, a place to land on her feet while she resettled her entire life. Holding to him tightly as he held her and the picture of their baby, she felt happier than she had in years.

He was amazing, he truly was.

 _Well, of course he is. He has some experience with this, doesn't he? Taking in the wayward woman carrying his child because she can't take care of herself is old hat for him by now._

Elizabeth pushed her brooding thoughts from her mind by turning back to Bria. "Are you sure you don't mind keeping my furniture and things at your place for a bit?"

"It's no trouble. What did the real estate agent say when you talked to her?"

"That there's not a lot of available property in my price range in town. Serves me right for not knowing how to manage my money better. There's some things to consider in Kingston, but I'd rather be in Arbor Bay."

"You could get something easily if you'd just -"

"We're not discussing this again."

"A loan, Lizzie, a small loan so you could have your own space and -"

"Briana, I'm going to find a job down there. I'm going to save my money, find a place on my own, and support myself for the first time in my life. Before my baby comes, I'm going to learn to be an adult. I love you for offering, but I refuse to take any more charity from you."

"No, you'll just take it from a man who've you only spent a handful of hours with fully clothed."

"That is not…You can't…Ugh!" Elizabeth sputtered. "It isn't like that! Will's not like that!"

"How do you know?! You don't know the first thing about him!"

"I know that he's survived almost entirely on his own since he was nothing more than a boy; that he goes out of his way to help people because he wants to, not because he needs something from them; that he took on Lucy by himself and against all odds, made a good life for the two of them; and that he could have run away and never thought of me again when he found out I was pregnant, except he didn't. That's what I know about William Turner and all I'll ever need to know about him."

Unmoved by her speech, Bria merely clapped her hands, the sarcasm echoing throughout the backseat. "That's a lovely little speech, Elizabeth. Truly, my heart is growing by leaps and bounds just listening to tales of the gallant William Turner."

"Listen here, you obnoxious cow, you -"

"How much does he make in a week? A month? A year?" Bria arched her eyebrow expectantly. Elizabeth could only answer her with silence. "Does he have health insurance? Does he own his house? What kind of school does he send Lucy to? Is he religious? Does he smoke? Does he have any outstanding debt? A criminal history? Failed marriages? Addictions? A little slice of honey on the side that he takes up to the Black Pearl when he fancies a little adult time?" Bria shrugged and reached for her briefcase. "Perhaps I'm a bit old-fashioned, but if I'm living with a man and soon to be raising a child with him, I might want to know the answers to at least some of these questions before I take a key. That's me, though. I could be wrong."

Elizabeth fumed in her seat for a moment. "I changed my mind. I hate you."

"Go ahead if that makes you feel better." She held out a manila folder about two inches thick. "Knowing that you have this for reading material on your flight will make me feel better in return."

Elizabeth could only gape at her unapologetic friend. "You ran a bloody background check on him."

"You are the only person in the world besides my Nan who I consider family. He lives in a shack on a speck of an island that's barely civilized and has a nasty habit of forgetting to wear condoms. Fucking A, I ran a background check on Will Turner."

"You are so out of bounds. You can't just abuse your job to invade a person's privacy like this."

"And you're going to be a mother very soon. You can't afford to be naïve with your future. Will is going to be a big part of that future." She held the folder out to Elizabeth again. "Go into this thing with your eyes open."

Eyeing the folder disdainfully, Elizabeth couldn't find it in her to be angry. If their situations were reversed, she knew in her gut she'd be doing exactly what Bria was doing right now, diligently checking into everything to make sure that her best girl in the whole world was safe. She wouldn't fault her for it.

She also wouldn't let her cast Will as the villain in their story.

"Do you trust me, Bria?"

"You know that I do."

"Good. Because I trust him with my life and our baby's." Gently, she pushed the folder back towards her friend. "That should be enough for you."

Properly chagrined, Bria reluctantly put the folder away. "Where did this assertive Elizabeth Swann suddenly come from?"

"I thought you'd be happy. You've wanted me to be freer, more willing to take chances, right? You've been pushing me for years."

"Yeah, I just thought you'd start with dying your hair or getting a tattoo. Didn't know you were going to leap right into unplanned pregnancies and spontaneous relocation. I might have encouraged you less."

"You do know that, technically, this whole thing is all your fault to begin with, don't you?"

"How do you figure that?"

"I wanted to go on holiday in South Africa." Elizabeth smiled broadly and Bria rolled her eyes, barely biting back her own. "You were the one that insisted on the Caribbean."

"That I did, Lizzie, that I did."

They sat in comfortable quiet until the car pulled up outside the bustling terminal and they stepped onto the crowded curb. While the driver loaded her bags onto a cart, Elizabeth pulled Bria close, her chest almost unbearably tight. "I am going to miss you madly. I promise that's true."

"No, you won't. I'm going to call about forty times a day and fly out every weekend. You'll kill me and throw my body into the Atlantic."

"Never. I'd never do that to you. Will might, but I won't."

They separated slightly and Bria swept a tear from Elizabeth's cheek with her thumb, ignoring the ones she was crying herself. "You make sure that he takes care of you," she said seriously. "He has to answer to me if he doesn't."

"He **is** a good man. I know that I don't know everything about him yet, but I'm sure of that."

"Of course, you are. You wouldn't be this mad for him if he wasn't."

"I…I…I'm not…I can't…" Words failed her under Bria's discerning gaze. She faltered, face reddening in shame, and she struggled to keep it together among the masses around them.

"Lizzie, it alright." As with most things, Bria was about fifteen steps of where Elizabeth was ready for her to be. "It's perfectly natural to be falling for the father of your child. Practically doctor recommended."

Before Elizabeth could say anything else, her belongings were beside her, ready to be checked onto a plane that would take her to the next phase of her life. She pulled the biggest part of her last one in for a final hug.

"Promise me you'll behave?"

"You're one to talk, Ms. Up the Duff."

"True, but my body is still young enough to bounce back from it. Yours on the other hand…"

"I love you, Lizzie."

"Love you, too."

With that, they parted and with one blown kiss goodbye, Elizabeth set out on her own.

 _No_ , she thought with a small smile at the ticket desk, her fingers brushing over her stomach. _I'll never be on my own again._

That made any pain she felt worth it.

Flyingcoach was a much different experience than first-class. More bodies, less legroom, and no warm towels. She had gotten a window seat, though, so as Elizabeth traversed the sky, she had something to gaze at while her memories of the last week refused to let her sleep.

Father had been furious. He had yelled. He had screamed. He had turned beet-red to the point that Elizabeth feared he'd collapse. When none of those affected her resolve, he simply grew quiet and cut off her finances. Her credit cards were gone, her apartment with her perfect butcherblock island was gone, and whatever savings she had cobbled together in between traveling and shopping throughout her early twenties was nearly gone now as well. He had left her with practically nothing. After her plane ticket and a few new articles of clothing with room to grow, she was going into her new life with a little over a thousand pounds or about thirteen hundred dollars. She had brought jewelry that she could sell in a pinch (meaningless baubles unlike her mother's necklace) and she knew that if she needed it, Bria could unload the furniture she had kept in London. Nevertheless, finding a job was her top priority once she was moved in. She wouldn't add unnecessarily to the weight on Will's shoulders, not if it could be helped. He would never admit it, but Elizabeth imagined that those shoulders could grow awfully weary at times.

Yet he kept on going and giving more of himself. Whenever she had tried to pull back, to leave him be and let his life continue uninterrupted, he had refused to let go. Responsibility was something he didn't take lightly. Lucy was a testament to that. She hadn't been exaggerating when she told Will his daughter was a treasure. Everything about her screamed of a child bathed in love and happiness, of a child that never did without the things that truly mattered. When she smiled at him, he shone with pride, and she had looked so at peace falling asleep in his arms, as if she had done it countless times and knew how safe she was in them. Elizabeth couldn't remember feeling that way as a little girl. She couldn't remember Father being…

 _Now stop that. It isn't fair for you to compare him to Will. They're two different men from very different backgrounds. Father's lived through things that Will hasn't and vice-versa._

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she hoped Father read the letter when Bria mailed it off to him, really read it and understood it. As angry as they had been at each other these past two weeks, he was still her father and the only parent she had as she was about to become one. He was afraid, that's all it was; he didn't see her as an adult yet and she was just as much to blame for that as he was. She had let him pay for her schooling, her apartment, her expenses. How could he understand she wasn't a child anymore if she still behaved as one? That's why she needed to be on her own right now, to prove to him as much as herself that he had raised her well. She could support herself and her baby. Once he realized that, all would be well with them again. They could chat on the phone in between his meetings. She could remind him playfully which of his secretaries was which and to be nicer to all of them if he wanted to get to any functions on time. He'd tell her a story of how he had courted her mother that she had heard at least twenty times before, but would always listen to because she yearned to hear how different his voice was when he spoke of her. Later, when she was established in Arbor Bay, he could come visit her and she'd show him all around her little paradise. She could show off whatever little house she had found by then with pride. She could introduce him to Will and Lucy.

Of course, Father would want to know exactly who he was meeting when he met Will. He'd want to know what the relationship was between the younger man and his only daughter and Elizabeth didn't blame him. She was mighty curious to know where she stood with Will herself. It was a question she had been pondering the past week away from him, one Bria had clearly picked up on, and her answers all conflicted: Her body craved him, as it had since the first time she saw him; her spirit called to him, the embodiment of her teenage yearnings of island freedom; her heart…her heart was being rather fickle, never latching onto one emotion long enough for her to make sense of any of them.

In the end, it was her mind that screamed the loudest: Will was the father of her child. She wouldn't – couldn't – risk costing her child that relationship for anything in the world. To say nothing of the fact that Elizabeth had all but rammed her way into his world with the delicacy of a bludgeon to the head. Instead of discussing their child and its future together, she had simply announced that she'd be raising said child on her own in London, only to do an almost immediate about face and decide to move to **his** island and crowd her way into **his** life. It was amazing he hadn't fled to the Artic with Lucy and changed his name by now.

She didn't doubt he wanted to care for the baby. She did doubt very much that he wanted his baby's unemployed, erratic mother hanging around him all the time.

What man in his right mind would?

As her flight descended and she disembarked through customs, scattered thoughts of Will Turner lingered in her beleaguered mind, muddled slightly by lack of sleep and traveling back in time six hours. Hiking her carry-on over her shoulder, she scanned the baggage terminal for him to no avail. By the time her checked bags were pulled from the conveyor belt, there was still no sign of him and a well of panic pooled in her stomach. Just before her uncertainties got the better of her, she heard her name being joyously called.

"ELIZABETH!" Lucy crashed into her side and Elizabeth almost cried with relief as she hugged the little girl to her. "You're here! You're really here again! I missed you!"

"Oh, I missed you, too. You're even prettier than I remembered and I remembered you to be gorgeous." Pulling away slightly, Elizabeth beamed at the picture she made in what was obviously her school uniform, her hair plaited into two long braids."

Lucy took Elizabeth's hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Daddy said that you're going to stay with us for a little while. Is that true? We can have breakfast and dinner together every day?"

 _A little while? Damn it, we weren't really firm on a timeframe, now were we? Oh God…_

"Uh, yes, we'll get to see a lot of each other," Elizabeth replied, pushing her nagging musings aside and cupping Lucy's cheek, focusing only on her cheery smile that helped to alleviate almost all manner of stress. "You have no idea how much I've been looking forward to spending more time with you."

"Can't be any more than Lucy, am I right, baby girl?" A familiar yet surprising person sidled up to them and held out her hand for Elizabeth. "Hi, I don't know if you remember me. I'm…"

"Anamaria, yes of course. Hi!" They greeted each other cordially. Elizabeth opened and shut her mouth before looking around again. "Uh, is Will, uh…in the car or…?"

"You didn't turn your phone back on from the flight, did you?" Elizabeth shook her head when she realized she had forgotten to. The other woman loaded her bags onto a cart and guided them all through the terminal as she continued, "There was an emergency at my café. Dishwasher almost exploded and nearly took out two of my prep cooks. Huge mess that I couldn't afford with the weekend brunch crowd tomorrow morning. I cashed in you don't know how many favors to get him down there and I said I'd come grab you. Now, since I didn't want you to get too freaked about making the trip back with me, I sprung Lucy from school a little early because she has been just dying to see the amazing Elizabeth Swann again. I've also got his keys so we can get you moved in right away. Cool?"

"Uh, yes that…that sounds great." Elizabeth didn't get most it, but Lucy's hand was in hers and that was enough for her right now.

"Me and Daddy were cleaning the house all week long. He said I almost turned into a dust bunny."

"Really? You two didn't have to go to any trouble for me."

"Tell that to Will. Everything had to be perfect for his…" She glanced down at Lucy before knowingly whispering, "his _mamá bebé_. You've got a queen-sized bed, bureau, your own tv. That man scrubbed his bathtub out for you. If you ask for it, you'll get it. The sky's the limit." Elizabeth smiled, but groaned on the inside. This was the exact opposite of what she had wanted. Will wasn't supposed to have to make any kind of effort for her. She was supposed to slip in seamlessly, blend into the walls, and not disrupt his household anymore than necessary.

That had already gone to Hell and she wasn't even in the bloody house yet.

When they were finally outside in the humid climate, Anamaria loaded them into a waiting taxi that took them to the ferry they'd use to cross from Kingston into Arbor Bay. From car to boat and then into Anamaria's car when they arrived, Anamaria and Lucy both kept a near-constant stream of conversation that given her exhaustion, both mentally and physically, Elizabeth struggled to follow: Lucy's class was getting a pet…Anamaria had interviews lined up for her next week…Lucy wanted to take her to the beach tomorrow afternoon…Anamaria was making a big dinner for all of them tonight…Lucy still wasn't getting along with Kayla, whoever that was…Anamaria would take her shopping Sunday since she knew all the best shops…Lucy was the best sandcastle maker in the whole world…Anamaria apologized in advance for anything Jack said or did in her presence…It was all a blur of words, names, and phrases until they finally pulled onto a dirt drive and made their way down to Will's house.

It was small, much smaller than she was expecting. It was only one-story with dulled white clapboards and a gray roof, the covered porch cleared of debris, but still quite weather-beaten. A jeep that was at least twenty years-old was parked to the side and there were several palm trees shading the area. Past the house, she could hear the rolling waves of the secluded beach welcoming her and felt at ease for the first time all day. Still trying to take it all in, Elizabeth felt Lucy tugging her up the stairs. Anamaria tossed her the keys as she got the bags out and Elizabeth let herself into her new…into Will's home.

The clean but cluttered living room they entered was separated from the tiny kitchen by only a half wall behind the threadbare sofa. The armchairs didn't match and the coffee table was three wooden crates of different colors fashioned together; nothing in the room matched or coordinated in anyway. It was the exact opposite of the order she was used to yet she couldn't deny the warmth that filled the space. There were pictures all over the walls and the shelves of the stuffed bookcase not otherwise occupied; images of Lucy as she grew smiled back at her along with others of Will growing up around the island with various other people she didn't recognize yet. The kitchen was to her left and the bedrooms looked to be to her right. Right across from her on the other side of the living room was a sliding glass door that led to back deck. Outside, the sky and ocean stretched out in front of her.

Lucy didn't wait for her to absorb any of it as she led her down the hallway. "That's my room. It's the best one in the house," she said, pointing, "and that's the loo. Daddy's room is here now, but he said we couldn't go in it. Your room is right here across from mine." Lucy pushed open the door to reveal a sea green-colored bedroom furnished with all the amenities Anamaria had described with one satisfying surprise: her two windows overlooked the water. Elizabeth, tired as she was, was renewed by the rush of adrenaline flowing through her blood. She was living on a beach, one her greatest wishes as a child, and she had the view to prove it.

Such was her happiness at her (temporary) living quarters that she almost didn't notice something Lucy had said. "What did you mean by-?"

"Alright, baby girl, you go get changed, then get your school stuff put away while Elizabeth and I get unpacked," Anamaria huffed as she hoisted Elizabeth's bags onto the bed. "We are having another bonfire tonight and we have to get ready."

"Ok!" Lucy darted across the hall and Elizabeth turned to Anamaria with wide eyes.

"A bonfire? Tonight?"

"Just a get together so everyone can meet you. Not that they know all the…details just yet. It's still early for that after all. They just know that you're someone that Will thinks highly enough of to let you move in with him until you're on your feet. It'll be Jack's people from work, my people from work, Will's people from work. Probably a good time to mention we do a lot of work around here. Trust me, it's better to get this out of the way now all at once."

"Why do they need to meet me? I'm just…I'm…"

"The woman who's carrying Will's child," Anamaria said quietly, opening the suitcases. "He's our family. That baby is our family. So that means that you, _mi querido_ , are family now, too. Hope you don't mind."

From the way Anamaria talked, it didn't seem like Elizabeth had much of a choice in the matter. If she had been given one, though, she knew she wouldn't have minded in the least

* * *

When Will pulled into his front yard, the sun was setting and there were cars littering both his and Jack's properties. Rowdy laughter and loud music carried over from behind the house, the torches and paper lanterns all lit out back to give the coming nighttime a mysterious glow.

"You've got to be shitting me," he grumbled, slamming the door shut, not even bothering to take his tools out of the car, eager to rescue Elizabeth from whatever torture his friends were making her endure.

 _The woman just flew almost ten hours on a plane and they throw a freaking party for her right after she lands?! What the fuck?!_

He knew he should have been there to pick her up. If he didn't owe Anamaria enough for a hundred lifetimes, he would've been, but he did and she called in all those marks today over that stupid dishwasher that he had nearly broken his hand on trying to reassemble into working order. This wasn't how he wanted Elizabeth's first day to go. He had wanted to make the best first impression as possible to calm whatever doubts she must have brought over with her from leaving such a cushy lifestyle behind in London. She had proclaimed herself unhappy with her life there, but at least there she would have had access to money. Will knew firsthand that while money didn't automatically make a person's daily grind any better or satisfying, it made it infinitely easier.

In their few phone exchanges over the week, there had never been a serious discussion of money. Elizabeth never asked him about what he could afford and he never questioned her on how much, if anything, she was bringing with her in terms of cash. He didn't want her to think for an instant that money had anything to do with her coming to stay with him. All he wanted was Elizabeth and their baby here so he could take care of them properly. She had made mention of finding a job, but he didn't want to pressure her into taking something she hated as much as she did her last job. He wanted her to find something here that she loved, that gave her the chance to find fulfillment she hadn't found across the pond. The happier Elizabeth was here, the more likely she was to stay here…with him.

Will wasn't kidding himself. If given the choice, most women wouldn't pick a man with his limited prospects to be the father of their children, let alone a woman from a wealthy, cultured background like hers. For some reason, though, she wanted him in her life and in their baby's life when it was born; so much so that she removed herself from everything she had ever known to come here.

He wouldn't let her regret it. Not for a single second.

Coming around the side of Jack's house, he tried to spot her amongst the influx of people. He didn't make it far before a hand grabbed him, yanking him up the packed deck and into the house.

"For the record, this shindig twas not my idea. On behalf of me lady, I humbly apologize," Jack said, leading him through the house into one of the back bathrooms. "Clean yourself up, you'll frighten the poor girl if she catches you looking like somethin' crawled out of Davy Jones' Locker."

"Her flight was good? All her stuff fit in the room?"

"Yes, to all apparently. Anamaria has her well settled and she's the center of the universe out there right now."

His hands stilled mid-wash. "And who exactly is a part of this universe, if I may ask?"

"Only one related to you is the one you sired. Bootstrap had business off the island. He'll be gone for a week or two before he returns. Happy?"

"Yes." Will scrubbed at the grime coating his hands, caring more for how Elizabeth was faring since her arrival than anything else, especially Bootstrap. "So…what do you think of her?"

"That's a right fit lady there that you managed to impregnate. You're steppin' up in the world if you can manage to make pretty birds like that flock to your -"

"Don't finish that thought. I'm pissed off enough at you already for the party."

"Apologies than. As I was articulating, the Lady Swann is most lovely. She's taken quite kindly to our little gathering of miscreants."

"Really?"

"Truly. Especially your wee one. Those two haven't left each other's sides since they got here."

"Good. That's good." He shut the water off and rubbed his face down with a towel. "Right?"

"You tell me. Your brilliant idea to shack up with her. Already havin' second thoughts before the first night is over?"

"No, of course not. I just…I want her to be comfortable here."

"Which is admirable, as you are prone to be despite my best efforts." Jack leveled him with one of his rare bouts of sincerity. "You still haven't answered what I've been askin' you for the past five days: Why the hell do you need her under the same roof as you?"

"Jack…" He didn't want to labor over this point again with Elizabeth close by.

"I've got properties all over this rock. You could've put her up in any one of those just as easily as livin' with her."

"She wants to pay for her own place," Will argued stubbornly. "She wouldn't even take a loan from her best friend, let alone me. There's nothing here she could afford yet."

"I'd give her a bloody good discount and you know it. That's not a good enough reason, William."

"Where the hell was this concern about living arrangements when Rebecca was pregnant? You seemed perfectly fine with that set-up."

"Because the darling Rebecca was a smack fiend who needed constant watching, else God only knows what would have happened to your daughter." Will tried to brush past him, but Jack shoved him against the wall in the hallway. "You are a man who has never even properly courted a woman as an adult. Now suddenly, after a night of lust and a handful of other encounters, you're movin' one in to live a few feet across from Lucy. Why?"

"She's pregnant, for God's sake!"

"Which she'd still be in her own flat. Instead, you're at sixes and sevens gettin' your house all spruced up, taking on extra work when you already hardly had time to sleep, and you're lettin' your daughter get attached to a woman who, bless her heart, may not be in our fair town for too long if she gets bored with this whole precarious plan of yours. With the fact bein' that I am one of your only bits of…of…family," Jack's lips soured as he spat the word out, "I am somewhat curious as to why you are puttin' yourself through this ordeal in the first place. Savvy?"

Will stared him down for a moment. "You get it all out of your system?"

"Yup."

"Okay then. Elizabeth gave up everything in her world to come here: Her job, her friends, her family, her country. She did all that to give me a chance at being a father to our child, to give Lucy a chance to know her brother or sister. I won't let her go through all that alone. If she needs me, I'll be there for her, in any way I can. If you've got a problem with that, keep it to yourself. Savvy?"

Jack regarded him silently, those black eyes that had known him since boyhood piercing through him. Finally, Jack pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and tucked it into Will's hand. "If you're going to pull this off, you'll be needin' a serious haul of cash, my friend."

"Pull what off?"

"Well, you bein' much more attached to the Lady Swann than even your little whelp is, it would be in your best interest to show her what a capable provider you are, 'specially considerin' the designer tags Anamaria spotted on the clothes she helped her unpack."

He wanted to deny that his interest in Elizabeth was anything more than that of a friend or a future co-parent. Jack knew him too well for too long for him to make it believable, though. He averted his eyes to the paper. "What's this then?"

"A name and telephone number, man by the name of Henry DeMarcus. Came across him a few years ago when Anamaria dragged me by me whiskers to New York. He's movin' down these parts soon and he's wealthier than ten Spanish kings."

"What am I supposed to do? Hope he leaves me something in his will someday?"

"No, you're to phone him when he establishes ties in Arbor Bay. You see, he's visited here and has decided that here is the perfect place to begin his passion project. One that you, Master Turner, have been remarkably well-suited for since you came to this island."

Will blinked, disbelieving what he was hearing. "Ships? He wants to start a company that restores ships down here?"

"Your dream, I know. Of course, lackin' in any true nautical expertise or knowledge of these islands, he would merely be providin' a steady stream of capital to keep the venture afloat. Whomever ran it for him would essentially be their own boss." Jack winked knowingly at him before nudging him back through the house.

"I…This isn't…" He stared down at the paper, dumbfounded. "This is too good to be true."

"That it is. Mind you, the job ain't yours yet. You have to meet with him and win his approval on your own, but I've put in the best word I can. Rest is up to you."

Uncertainty flooded through Will at such a task. He'd never been able to push himself across that last quarter mile in all the other openings he had previously. What was there to make him think he could do it this time?

Jack stopped him when they reached the door that led to the deck. He waited until Will had his eyes on Elizabeth, Lucy in her lap, the two of them laughing heartily at something Gibbs was saying. The sight of the two of them with one another hit him just as hard as it had a week ago. He wondered if it always would.

"I know what you're thinking," Jack began in his ear. "You are lackin' in both the talent and time to pull this off. To that I'd counter that you have yourself some very powerful incentive these days." Patting him on the shoulder, Jack left him standing there to think.

Elizabeth could have been with any man she wanted. Surely in London, there were aristocrats and trust fund wankers by the dozens that would have laid out a carpet of a diamonds for her to walk on if she so desired. Men would give almost anything to have a woman as beautiful as she was give them the time of day. Yet here she was, on his island, tickling his daughter and socializing with people who combined probably weren't worth a fraction of what was in her father's bank account. The baby was the main reason she was here. He knew it; was more than grateful for it in fact. He just didn't want it to be the only reason.

Folding the paper with Henry DeMarcus's information on it, he put it securely in his wallet. Somehow, he'd find a way to make himself worthy of her.

"Hi Daddy!" Lucy called out from her perch when he finally joined them all outside. Loud greeting and salutations surrounded him, but he only had eyes for one person. Well, two people. "Look, Elizabeth's here!"

"I can see that, sweetheart." Bending down, he kissed Lucy's hair, his forehead coming close enough to Elizabeth's that he caught a whiff of that delightful floral scent she always wore. He smiled shyly down at her, hoping the eyes of everyone weren't on them. "Welcome to Arbor Bay."

"Thank you," Elizabeth replied, hiding a little behind Lucy's braids.

Pulling up a chair beside her, the rest of the crowded deck gave them a moment to themselves. "I'm, um, sorry I wasn't there to pick you up. I wanted to be, believe me."

"It's alright. Anamaria was a wonderful chauffer and this one," Lucy squealed when Elizabeth tickled her sides again, "was a wonderful hostess."

"I showed her were everything was in the house."

"Yes, I now know where the towels are kept as well as which armchair is the good chair. So, yes I know where everything is."

"Ah, I see. She did tell you that, according to her, the good chair is hers exclusively."

Elizabeth pouted miserably at Lucy. "You failed to mention that."

"No, you can use it whenever you want to."

"Oh really? What makes Elizabeth more special than your own father, young lady?"

"Because that armchair is just for girls, Daddy," she teased him. "No boys allowed in it."

"Is that so?" She nodded happily before screaming as he scooped her into both arms, spinning her around over his shoulder to her delight.

"Stop! Stop! I'm getting dizzy!"

"I'll stop when you give me rights to that chair."

"Never!"

He had to though when his own vision began to blur slightly. As he regained his balance, he caught Elizabeth watching them, biting on her thumbnail to mask her smile. Walking back to her, he placed an out of breath Lucy carefully back in her lap before plucking a piece of grilled pork from her dinner plate.

She glowered at him. "That was mine, Will Turner."

"Yes, and it was delicious." Her bare foot hit his shin playfully and if the look Anamaria shot his way was any indication, he was grinning like a fool.

With Elizabeth and his daughter in front of him, he didn't care in the slightest.

The rest of the evening was spent in jovial fashion, everyone getting to know Elizabeth and vice-versa as they feasted together. His friends ragged him endlessly by telling the most embarrassing stories about him they could, (the ones age appropriate enough for his daughter, at least) in the brief moments they weren't showering Elizabeth with flattery. Jack, especially, went out of his way to flirt with her constantly. Instead of his antics closing her off, as Will had feared, she threw everyone single one of his come-ons back in his face with wit sharper than any blade. When he finally told Elizabeth that he was finished trying to win her affections and she quipped back something along the lines of how he must be an expert in finishing early, he glanced at Will over her head and nodded his approval. Will raised his chin in thanks, happy that Jack could see how special she was. All in all, it was a magnificent evening and a very late one for them all, especially Elizabeth. Will held a sleeping Lucy tight to him with one arm and took a yawning Elizabeth by the hand as he led them back to his house. They didn't even speak again when the sliding door shut behind them.

 _Tomorrow. We'll talk more tomorrow. I'll make us a big breakfast and we'll talk more about…everything then.  
_

It was with that purpose that Will rose even earlier than normal for a Saturday, one of his rare times to sleep past sunrise. First, he pocketed the surprise he hadn't gotten a chance to give Elizabeth last night before he started on breakfast. The pancakes and eggs had to be perfect; the toast buttered and waiting for her when she woke up. He even threw on some of the expensive sausage links he had splurged on for this occasion, hoping it was something she liked. She had seemed a hearty the night before, which was good. He wouldn't have to worry about watching her to make sure she was eating enough for two people, unlike when Rebecca was carrying Lucy.

He was loading the first batch of eggs and pancakes onto the table, happy he had been smart enough to get a table big enough for three people before Elizabeth arrived, even if it did halve the already-limited space in the kitchen, when Lucy walked in.

"Mmm…" Her eyes took in the spread ravenously before she went to get her juice. "Why did you make so much?"

"Well I just thought, I don't know, it might be a nice thing to do for Elizabeth on her first full day here."

She nodded in agreement. "Good point. So, I have the whole day planned already. First, we're going to the marketplace so Elizabeth can feed Mr. Abayu's cats. Then, we're going -"

"You know, Lucy, she might be a bit tired from traveling and last night." He cracked the two more eggs over the pan to scramble. He could add veggies or cheese if Elizabeth wanted him to later. "It might be better to let her relax today."

"But it was her idea," Lucy said, filling her own glass and then a second. He assumed it was for Elizabeth, as he didn't drink it, and he smiled at her thoughtfulness. "We planned it all before you came to the bonfire. She said she was excited to see the town with us."

"Oh, uh, well alright. If that's what Elizabeth wants, then-"

"What exactly is it that I want?" As if saying her name made her appear, a still-sleepy Elizabeth joined them. Neither he or Lucy had time to greet her before her face blanched and she raced out of the room, holding her stomach.

Lucy frowned, confused. Will was as well until he looked down into the pan and it flashed through his mind.

 _Eggs…Eggs make her sick now. Fuck!_

Scrapping the remnants into the trash, he flung the hot pan into the sink and turned the stove off. The dish of them already on the table stumped him. She couldn't be around them, but Will was never one to be wasteful.

Quickly he found a compromise. Scooping half the portion onto Lucy's plate, he threw the rest out. "Eat all of those before Elizabeth gets back, okay?"

"Why? She doesn't like them?"

"No, she's just, uh, a little sick I think from all the flying she's done lately."

"Eggs make you sick if you fly a lot?"

He was well-versed in this routine and didn't have time for it in his eagerness to check on Elizabeth. "Eat all of those before Elizabeth gets back and you don't have eat any veggies tonight for dinner."

"A week."

"Three days."

"Deal." Lucy shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth, giving him a thumbs-up that he returned. The bargain made, he hurried to the bathroom and knocked on the door.

"It's me," he said through the wood. "Can I come in?"

"Yes," she whimpered. He eased the door open to find her huddled in between the toilet and the sink, her pale skin splotchy from her stomach's upheaval.

"I'm sorry. I completely forgot about the…" She grimaced at the mere thought, "…things you can't eat right now." He lowered himself across from her, their knees almost touching as they made space for each other in the miniscule room. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I'll just wait a bit before I go back out there, if you don't mind."

"Lucy's finishing them off right now." An uneasy hush encroached on them as they both recognized this was the first time they were alone since Elizabeth's arrival. The bareness of her legs from her pajama shorts made his skin ache and the small bit of cleavage from her tank top was…

 _Damn it, you filthy mongrel, keep it in your pants! She's suffering from morning sickness and your bloody ogling. Pervert!_

"Thank you." Elizabeth's quiet words brought him back to reality. "I know I said it a little last night, but thank you for letting me stay here with you. I can never ever repay you for the kindness you've shown."

"You already are." He nodded towards her stomach. "For what you're giving me, a bed and a roof is the absolute bare minimum I can give you."

She cocked her head a little to the side. "Will? Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Why did you give me your room instead of the guest room?"

His eyes widened imperceptibly. "How did you -?"

"Something Lucy said yesterday, about how your room was your room now, as if you had another room before."

Caught red-handed, he shrugged and studied her toenails, professionally manicured and polished. She must have been able to have them done regularly. He wondered how much it had cost her and what it would cost him to let her keep little indulgence. The few bits of her old life her could let her keep, he would. "The view is better in that room. You seem like a woman who would appreciate an ocean."

"I am and I do, but you shouldn't have gone to that trouble for me."

"Why not?" he asked, surprised. Wasn't she used to having people go out of their way for her?

For someone as wonderful as her, shouldn't that happen every day?

"I don't want to disrupt anything you have going on here. You have so much on your plate that you can't afford to be holding someone's hand-"

"Elizabeth, I like holding your hand." To prove it, he took one of hers, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "I like being here to help you. I…I like…"

 _You. I like you. I like you so much I don't know how I'm ever going to be without you when you get sick of me and find your own place._

"I like that you want to help me too, Will," she said with a small smile, finishing his verbal thought. "More than you know, I like how serious you are about making sure the baby and I are safe."

"Because that's my job."

"And what's going to happen when the baby's here? Every time it cries, I just pass it on to you until it's time for another feeding? I need to be a mother and from what I've gleaned, the best mothers can take care of themselves. So, while I'm here, you are not my chef or my butler or my chauffer. You are my teacher. You are the person who is going to show me how to be one hundred percent self-sufficient by the time I squeeze this child out of me. Okay?" She jutted her chin out, prepared for him to challenge her.

Will could only chuckle. Obstinacy was as adorable on her as it was on Lucy. "It's a deal." He turned their joint hands into a firm handshake. Reaching into his pocket, he handed her a set of keys. "This should help with that."

"What are these?"

"Your keys, to the house and to the jeep parked out front."

"E-Excuse me?"

"I didn't want you stuck here or spending money on cabs. I know a guy who needed me to fix an old motorbike so we struck a deal. The only thing is the muffler was shot. It'll be a loud and conspicuous, but it's sturdy and reliable. I fixed up…" He trailed off when he noticed her eyes watering. "What is it?"

"You bought me a car?"

"I traded to get you one, yeah. I realized the other day that-"

"You actually went out and found me a car on a whim, just because you thought I'd want one?" Squeezing his hand once more, she let him go, much to his heart's outcry. She swatted at her tears, almost growling. "You are unbelievable, William Turner."

"What did I-?"

"I can't accept this." She tried to hand him back the keys. "This is too much."

He refused them, pushing them back towards her enough so that his hand almost grazed her chest. "No, it isn't. It's, um, it's just exactly enough especially for when you find a job eventually."

Sighing, she rolled the keys around one of her fingers. "I suppose it will help me get out of your hair a bit faster."

"Y-Yes, that's true," he said reflexively. In truth, if he had considered that, he wouldn't have made the trade at all. It was the exact opposite of what he wanted.

 _Not her, though. Probably still had her bags at the ready for when you manage to muck this up._

Collecting himself, he stood and held out a hand to help her up. "Come on. Lucy should have gotten rid your worst enemy by now."

"Okay." They left together, but Elizabeth stopped short glancing to make sure Lucy couldn't hear them as she faced him. "I know I probably sound like an ungrateful twit and I don't mean to be. I just don't want you to go through all the trouble for me that you have. I'm not worth it." Before he could say anything, she turned and reentered the kitchen. He heard her assure Lucy that she was just fine and she sat down to eat, chatting happily about their plans for today while he stood immobile where she left him, alarmed at what she had told him.

Who or what had ever made her feel like she was unworthy of **anything**? If it was a person, like her fucking bastard of a father, Will had some very choice for him.

It would have to wait. Elizabeth Swann deserved to know how worthy of everything she was.

If she wanted him to be her teacher, he'd hammer that lesson home for her.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: This is a quick note to say this is probably the last update until September, but I made it a long one for you guys. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far! I love the love this piece is inspiring. Please let me know what you think and please enjoy!**

* * *

Elizabeth held her breath as she eased the sliding glass door shut behind her. The latch banged quite loudly if one wasn't careful, something she still was here after two weeks. Her showers were quick to not waste water, she didn't eat or drink anywhere other than the kitchen, didn't even play her music out loud, even though she quite missed dancing around like a fool as she had done sometimes at her old flat.

Stifling a yawn, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes the best she could, determined to take in as much of the magnificent sunrise as she could. It had always been her habit since childhood to lay curled beneath the warmth of her comforter until the moment she absolutely had to rise. Soon after her arrival to Will's little beachfront cottage, she had discovered that the array of colors the sky presented as the sun came up was too tempting to resist.

Well that, and it helped prevent her from running into a nearly-naked Will in the mornings.

Her first weekend in Arbor Bay had gone splendidly. The weather was beautiful as Will and Lucy had squired her all over the town to some of their favorite haunts: the little marketplace not far from them – crowded with stands selling jewelry, colorful wraps, and hand carved soaps as well as fresh fish, fruit, and produce unloaded from the docks right in front of them – was filled with delicious scents that had awoken her heretofore absent pregnancy cravings; a local botanical garden that Elizabeth felt she could spend all day wandering through, caressing the velvety petals of jasmine and hibiscus; a sweet shop where they watched coconut taffy being made from the outside window; and finally, the glittering marina downtown. Elizabeth had been there before, on her first fateful trip, but being there again with the two Turners was something different altogether. Lucy, balancing on the rail as her father stood securely behind her, waved and shouted to every passing vessel with unencumbered glee. Many of them blew their horns in reply, which delighted her to no end. Will spent their time there trying to point out the various sailboats to Elizabeth.

"Ok, that one right there is a -"

"Schooner,"

"Well, yes, obviously. That's an easy one. I meant the one behind it, coming up on its-"

"Starboard side? That's a yawl. You can tell by the mizzen mast aft of the rudder post." She offered him a cheeky grin as his face reddened slightly.

"Alright, alright," Will said, shaking his head in bemusement. "I should have known better than to try to educate a pirate enthusiast about anything nautical. I'm making myself look bad in front of my daughter."

 _No,_ Elizabeth had thought as she regarded him, his arms holding Lucy to his chest, the sea breeze ruffling a stray lock of his dark hair. _You look mighty good right where you are, Will Turner._

All in all, it had been a perfect weekend. Everything was working out better than she had hoped and when she woke up early on Monday, she entered the narrow hallway with a head full of plans to organize her new bedroom before she met with Anamaria later to go over her job interviews.

None of her plans for that day had included colliding into Will as he emerged from the steamy bathroom, clad only in a towel wrapped snuggly around his waist.

"S-Sorry!" Elizabeth squeaked, nearly nose-to-nose with him as his hands instinctively went to her waist to steady her. She could almost feel his fingertips burning her through the thin material of her pajamas. "I-I didn't hear you…" Any other thought died away when a bit of water dripped from his wet hair to glide a path down the toned muscles of his arm, making her mouth water. Her face flushing, she eased out of his reach before he could make a sound and hastened back to the safety of her room. "Sorry!"

She slammed the door shut behind her, willing her heart to stop pounding as the hint of his musk lingered in her nostrils. The heat coursing through her bloodstream made her tremble. Wrapping her arms tighter around herself, she shivered at the brief memory of him then fell back against the bed, groaning quietly.

 _God, he felt so good…_

How was she going to make it without self-combusting being this close to the utter physical perfection that was Will Turner every day?

It was only fitting that paradise came with a cost, one she'd gladly pay. She just didn't understand why she had to share a loo with its deliciously toned frame.

Mindful that she was a guest in his home, Elizabeth forced herself to dress and join her hosts in the kitchen later for breakfast. There wasn't room to avoid one another and she held her breath when Will sidled up to her near the counter. His nearness wasn't helping her forget their encounter, something she desperately needed to do unless she wanted to pin him up against the refrigerator adorned with Lucy's drawings. That wouldn't do, not at all. He had already been more understanding than he had a right to be. She couldn't afford to let things grow tricky between them.

"Listen, about this morning, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't worry about it," she grinned at him, her cheekbones near cracking. Topping a slice of toast with jam, she prayed her calm veneer held. "It's bound to happen, small quarters and all. No reason to make a fuss. It's just one of the many lessons about adulthood you're to be teaching me: wake up early if you want to get to the loo first."

He nodded slowly to that. "Right. Good one to learn straight away."

She waited until he turned back to Lucy before exhaling quietly. Dear Lord, how was she going to survive her stay here if simply standing next to him sent her to such heights?

The solution she had come up with over the last two weeks was avoidance. Not of Will in general, just of instances where she'd be likely to see him in a way that would make her arousal spike, such early morning shower escapes or bent over the hood of car as he changed out a part or kicking a football back and forth in the sand with Lucy until he picked her up to twirl around or…

"Bloody hell, woman, get a hold of yourself," Elizabeth chided herself. Pushing her traitorous thoughts aside, she laid out a mat on the deck and propped her tablet up in front of her against the dark wood before beginning the video she had queued up. A yoga tutorial designed for both novices and expectant mothers played, something she had picked up at Bria's suggestion to help her stay active, and Elizabeth spent the remaining sunrise stretching into poses while her mind tried to focus on something other than Will's physique.

Unfortunately, the only thing it could land on was her inability to find any kind of work. Law practice was out of the question; she had no credentials and her experience was too limited. Anamaria had arranged interviews in various offices, banks, and the few corporations that operated in the area. When none of those panned out, mostly due to Elizabeth's lack of business knowledge, her new neighbor tried to find her work as a secretary or a personal assistant, all with no luck. Again, even with the favors she knew Anamaria was calling in to try and help her, Elizabeth didn't have the basic skills – like typing or computer knowhow – to back it up. She couldn't land a job anywhere: at the naval museums, the shops, the ritzy hotels she stayed in no less than a month ago. They looked at her meager resume and none of them thought she was qualified enough to even pick up a phone. Against Anamaria's better judgement, she had even let Will talk her into trying Elizabeth out as a waitress at her café, Dulzura, just yesterday during a slow Wednesday shift.

Elizabeth knew it had gone horribly after dropping her third plate. She didn't realize how horribly until she had overheard Will and Anamaria last night talking on the same deck she was now in Warrior Two on.

"There's really no way you can keep her on?" Will had asked in a hushed voice, not knowing Elizabeth was pressed against the other side next to the glass door, having gone to the kitchen to fetch a late-night drink.

Anamaria sighed heavily. "She's wonderful, you know I think that. She's amazing with Lucy and I want to help her, but Will, she screwed up an order for a glass of ice water. With Juanita going over to the kitchen at Belle Cove, I don't have the time to train someone from the ground up. I'm scrambling as it is."

"Yeah, I get it. Thanks for trying her."

"It's the real world, _chico_ , and it ain't always pretty or kind."

"I understand, I do. It's just…she's so smart. I don't get why this is this difficult for her."

"Because she's upper-class smart. If we were looking for people on these islands to critique artwork or explain Parliament to us, she'd be a shoe-in. We don't need that here, though. We're rumslingers and rapscallions; modern-day pirates trying to squeeze every last dollar out of these tourists while we have 'em. I'm…I'm just not sure where Elizabeth's going to find her place here."

Anamaria's words still stung in the daylight. Years of schooling at some of the finest institutions in Europe, hundreds of thousands of pounds spent, and Elizabeth wasn't even skilled enough to take a simple breakfast order. It was demoralizing. She had such an urge to phone Bria to bemoan her predicament, but she knew it would only lead her friend to offer again to send her money. Elizabeth wasn't sure her pride was strong enough for her to resist right now.

Her ears perked up slightly when she heard the front door open and shut. Slowly coming out of her pose, she walked over to the edge of the deck and peered around. She could just make out Will going into his work shed. Picking up her tablet, she hurried inside to drop it off, grab her toiletries, and take her turn in the shower without being seen by him. If seeing Will close to starkers had been mortifying, she knew without a doubt she'd never recover if she let him see her in a similar fashion.

 _Not with the way you look now,_ she thought, stepping under the warm spray. _You'd give the poor man a fright._

The body she had now wasn't the one she had given to Will over and over that night above the Black Pearl. The most noticeable change were her breasts; her modest B cups had grown into sizeable C cups, seemingly overnight. They ached something fierce to the touch now and hardly any of her shirts fit anymore, even the slightly larger ones she had bought before coming. She hadn't dared go swimming in the ocean yet for fear she'd simply roll out of her top. Her body simply wasn't her own anymore and it was only just beginning.

Rubbing the soap along her body, she felt how firm her stomach now was at almost twelve weeks along and smiled. Next on her list after finding a job was finding a doctor. She was very eager to see how her little surprise was growing along.

Will and Lucy were almost finished eating when she finally arrived at breakfast after her shower. "Good morning," she told them, fastening the last button of the light sweater she wore over her yellow dress.

"Hi Elizabeth!" Lucy exclaimed. Even now, Elizabeth was pleasantly surprised with how happy Lucy was to still see her here every day.

"Morning," Will told her, finishing off the last of his coffee while she went to prepare her daily breakfast of oatmeal in the microwave. Her nausea had mostly faded, but after more than one dash to the loo in the mornings, she was still gun shy about trying anything more daring. "Lucy, go get ready for school. What do you want for fruit with your lunch?"

"Strawberries please. Cut up," she called back as she headed to her bedroom.

"Yes, because they taste so much different that way," he mumbled under his breath.

"They really do," she said, standing at his side at the counter while he quickly scrubbed their dishes. "It was all the rage in London, sliced strawberries. Bigger than the Stones."

He smirked at that. "Well, my daughter does fancy herself a trendsetter."

Elizabeth took her breakfast at the table, eating quietly and watching as Will moved fluidly about the kitchen, never a movement wasted as he cleaned, prepared Lucy's lunch, checked her schoolbag, and prepared a thermos of coffee to bring to work. He had multitasking down to a science. After all this time by himself, he had to. It still didn't ease Elizabeth's guilt as she ate her oatmeal and raisins. She knew by now though that any overtures she made as an offer to help him, be it dishes or putting breakfast together for the three of them, he'd only politely rebuff her. He wouldn't even let her help with Lucy after school. They all spent time together until Lucy went to bed and then Will would work himself to exhaustion in his shed long after Elizabeth herself was asleep. It wasn't in his nature to accept assistance. That much was apparent the more she grew to know him, but it wounded her terribly to watch him work so hard without any relief.

"What are your plans for today?" he asked her when he was done.

She kept her eyes steadfastly on her bowl. "I'm going to the grocer. See if they're hiring."

"Elizabeth, you don't have to-"

"This isn't a holiday or a long visit for me. I need a job, Will."

 _And_ _ **you**_ _need a break, sir. I won't have you working yourself to death before our baby arrives. You won't get out of the dirty nappies that easily._

"You'll find one. Don't stress about it. You don't need to rush headlong into something you're going to end up hating by taking the first thing you find."

She remembered his conversation from last night. "There's not a lot here I **can** do. As much as I'd like to be, I'm not a modern-day pirate like the rest of you." His face reddened with guilt and she hurried to reassure him. "I'm not mad. She wasn't wrong. I know I'm not up to par with you lot. I just want to be useful is all."

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by Lucy bounding back into the kitchen, dressed for school and holding a brush and hair ties, offering it to Will expectantly. Instead of taking it, he glanced back and forth between the two of them before bending to whisper in her ear. At her look of astonishment, he nodded and spun her around to face Elizabeth.

"Will you please comb my hair?" Lucy asked her sweetly.

"Uh, sure," Elizabeth replied after a beat, positioning Lucy to stand in front of her, trying to catch Will's eye as he left to brush his teeth. This wasn't exactly what she had meant by being useful, but the delight of working her fingers through Lucy's long hair as she swiftly twisted it into a neat braid was enough.

For now.

When she was done, Lucy reached back to pat her head. "Wow, you're really good at that. It didn't hurt at all."

"Thank you. I practiced with my best friend, Bria, when I was your age. I could show you some time if you'd like."

Will entered before she could answer, holding a pair of long white knee socks in his hand. "Ok, you can change in the car, young lady."

Elizabeth noticed for the first time that the ones Lucy wore were completely mismatched. "But Daddy," Lucy begged, "I just want to-"

Handing her the socks and her backpack, he hustled her out the door. "Go, now. We'll be late."

"Ugh! You're no fun!" She stomped outside, arms crossed with a frown on her face.

Elizabeth's eyes widened at that little display. "She seems really mad at you."

"Yeah, kids do that occasionally when they don't get the answer they want."

"I mean, it's just socks. Is it really that big of…?" His eyes hardened just a touch and she immediately backed down. Hair brushing was one thing; discipline was entirely out of bounds. "Sorry."

He cleared his throat and nodded. "I'll see you later. Call me if you need anything." The door shut tight behind him and she slunk down into her chair.

"Wonderful start for the day, Elizabeth."

The morning didn't improve from there. It took her nearly an hour to make her way to the small shopping center, the roads of the town unfamiliar and narrow, her jeep roaring loudly the whole way. When she got there, the manager of the grocer gave her a long onceover and informed her without hesitation that there were no positions open.

 _Lovely_ , Elizabeth thought disdainfully as he walked away. _I am officially unqualified to put eggs into a brown paper bag_

She wandered aimlessly through the aisles, having nothing better to do with her day, and fresh out of ideas with how to earn a living for herself here, save prostitution. Thoroughly defeated, she found herself in a familiar place. Wholly fed up with the day (and the past few weeks in general), she went to get a basket and filled it with sugar, flour, baking soda, and anything else she could think of, not worrying about dipping into her paltry sum of money for once. There was never a woe in life that couldn't be cured with a bit of baking. Her mother had made sure she had known that. It was time to test the theory. Arriving back at the cottage with her purchases, however, she found – to her horror – that Will didn't have a single cake or muffin tin in his entire kitchen.

 _What has he been giving that poor child for sweets? That monster…_

Not fancying another trip further into town, she made her way to Jack and Anamaria's home. They both seemed to enjoy cooking. They would have what she needed, if Jack was still there right now. She knocked on the front door repeatedly, hoping that he was both awake and sober enough to answer. Just when she had given up hope and was getting ready to see if their backdoor was unlocked, the door opened but it wasn't Jack who greeted her.

A man older than the notorious captain with stringy gray hair wet from a shower answered, his weathered face taking her in carefully as he finished buttoning his shirt. "May I help you?" he asked her, his voice low and deep in his chest.

"Hello." She blinked at the stranger, wondering why he seemed so familiar. "I'm sorry, I'm looking for Jack or Anamaria."

"Both at work."

"Oh, I see. Um, do you mind terribly if I come in for a moment? You see, I'm staying next door at Will's and I just-"

"You're staying with Will?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, forgive my manners. I'm Elizabeth." She held out her hand to him, puzzled when it took him a moment to shake it. "And you are?"

He searched her face again before finally saying, "Bootstrap. Everyone calls me Bootstrap."

"Well, pleasure to meet you, Bootstrap. Like I was saying, do you think Jack or Anamaria would mind if I borrowed a few pans? I'm trying to do some baking and Will doesn't seem to have anything I need at his place."

Bootstrap moved away from the door and allowed Elizabeth to enter. "Of course. Help yourself to anything. They're always willing to share what they have."

"Thank you." He followed her through the hallway and airy living room into a kitchen straight out of a magazine, done in stark whites and creams, complete with marble countertops and a top-of-the-line gas range stove. Bootstrap followed behind her and while the mysterious man had peaked her curiosity, she didn't feel threatened or uncomfortable with him. Kneeling on the floor, she began digging through the cabinets as Bootstrap watched her. "If you don't mind me asking, how do you know Jack and Anamaria?"

"Jack is an old friend. We've known each other going on twenty years."

Elizabeth snorted. "And you haven't killed him yet? You must be up for sainthood by now."

He chuckled but only briefly. "Far from it, I assure you. The truth is, he's been a far better friend to me than I deserve. Despite what he thinks, he's more than paid his debt to me."

"What debt is that?"

"We met on a boat somewhere in the Pacific. I was first mate and he was just a deckhand. I can't even remember where we were headed exactly. The storm, though…that one will never leave me. Winds that tried to rip the flesh from your bones, suffocating rain, waves that were doing their damnedest to take us all down to the depths. Mark my words, Hell was that storm."

She stood slowly with the pans she found, considering Bootstrap as she listened to his words, seeing the tempest just as he described it. "And you saved him? Jack?"

"Stopped him from going overboard by grabbing his hair and yanking him over the rail. Still claims that's why he keeps it that way, no matter how ridiculous he looks."

"That was very brave of you."

He dismissed her almost instantly. "Any man would have done the same."

Her respect for him grew with that reaction. "With that kind of danger all around, the imminent threat of drowning in the middle of nowhere without saying your goodbyes? No, sir, not many men would have done that."

"Anyways," he said, studying his tough nails, unwilling to accept her praise, "that's how we met. We found our way here eventually. Jack stayed and I…well, I can't seem to keep myself in one place for too long. I live alone on my boat. Whenever I find myself back in these parts, Jack's always willing to share his dock and his much nicer shower with a vagabond like me."

She frowned as a thought occurred to her. "How come you weren't here at the bonfire the night I arrived? I don't remember seeing you."

"No, I was making deliveries for some associates off the island." When her frown deepened at his cryptic words, he smiled reassuringly. "Nothing illegal or dangerous, I promise. Just goods that my associates prefer not to pay taxes for."

"Ah." She nodded in understand, smiling in return. "Another modern-day pirate then."

"I suppose so."

"I've always wanted to live amongst pirates, you know."

"Well, if I may be so bold, your wish is still unfulfilled as you picked quite an honorable man to move in with."

Elizabeth laughed in agreement, her mind going instantly to the baby. "You have no idea. Are you close with Will, too? From what I remember, he hasn't mentioned a Bootstrap and that's one I'd remember."

"No, we're not," Bootstrap replied at once. "He's part of Jack's world, not mine." She wasn't sure why, but there was the faintest trace of dejection in his tone. He didn't give her a chance to inquire as he started walking towards the deck. Elizabeth could see a lovely little sloop docked in the water. "I'll let you get on with your baking then. Bring the pans back whenever you're done, Anamaria won't miss them."

"Thank you," she said, turning for the front door. "It was nice meeting you, Bootstrap."

"You as well, Elizabeth."

Hours later, armed with a basket full of treats, she pulled her jeep in front of Dulzura. Anamaria's place was close to the Strathwood and much easier to find than the grocer. Parking carefully, Bootstrap was still on Elizabeth's mind. The older man was so unlike Jack that it amazed her they were friends to begin with. Even in knowing him this short time, she couldn't imagine Jack with someone like Bootstrap; where Jack was bombast and bravado, there was a gravitas to Bootstrap that spoke of a life lived under troubling circumstances. Yet there was a kindness and sweetness to his spirit that Elizabeth found charming.

In truth, she found him to be a lot like Will.

 _Funny how they don't know each other that well_ , Elizabeth thought offhandedly, securing her haul in the crook of her arm as she pushed open the door to the bright café, all done in classic Caribbean oranges and blues, eclectic wall scones and art adding to the ambiance. On this sunny day, the shuttered windows remained open. The tables were all full, with the lunch crowd, but the counter that Anamaria was standing behind as she directed her staff was empty when Elizabeth went up to her.

"Hi."

"Elizabeth, hey. What are you doing here?"

"I just came by to say thank you again for all the help you've given me lately. I-I realize I haven't made it easy for you, with my complete absence of aptitudes and all."

Anamaria nodded, handing a stack of mugs to her barista. "Look, this isn't an easy place to make a living and people here are very clannish. It's hard for them to trust someone they don't know with something they rely on, like their businesses. Once they get to know you here, they'll give you a chance."

"Too bad there's not a class I can teach about the rules of Parliament." Elizabeth gasped before Anamaria could even react. "I'm sorry, that didn't sound as catty in my head as it did out loud. Is it too early to use pregnancy as an excuse for being a bitch?"

"No. and you're not one."

Elizabeth stepped aside to allow a customer to grab more napkins. "I just…I want to help Will but until I find a job, everything is on him. It has been for far too long already and now with this," she rubbed her stomach, "I don't want him running himself into the ground trying to provide for us when I'm the one who-"

"Excuse me?" She turned to the elderly customer who was trying to peek into her covered basket. "What is that wonderful smell?"

"Chocolate and strawberry muffins." Pulling one out, she handed it him. "Please help yourself, I made plenty."

"Thank you," he said, heading back to his table.

"You're welcome. Anyways," she turned back to the other woman, "I feel like I'm nothing more than this weight that's dragging him down."

"Believe me, that isn't what he thinks."

"Then why won't he let me help him? I only get to tend to myself while he does every last thing for himself and Lucy. He doesn't even trust me watch her when I know he has work piling up in that shed of his that needs attention."

"It's not that he doesn't trust you. He's afraid he'll scare you off if he asks too much of you," Anamaria explained, snapping her fingers at a waitress to mop up a spilled drink.

"Why would helping him scare me? He's the reason I came here!" Anamaria's brow rose in amusement and Elizabeth immediately retraced her words. "For the baby, I mean. For our baby. For our baby to be able to know him. That's why I came."

 _Not to see him in all his wet, shirtless glory. That's for damn sure._

Anamaria didn't get a chance to offer a retort when another customer approached them. "How can I help you ma'am?"

"I'm sorry, my husband got a muffin that is delicious. Do you have any more of the chocolate and strawberry?"

"Here you go," Elizabeth said, giving her one from the basket before Anamaria could open her mouth.

The woman took a bite and sighed in delight as she walked away. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. Anyways, where was I? Oh yes, I can't keep pretending that this whole situation is all hunky-dory and neither can he. I'm going mad in that house during the day by myself." Her voice started creeping slightly towards hysteria. "I'm almost out of money, I can't find a job, I won't be able to find a flat of my own, and Will's going to realize soon what a terrible idea this all was. He's going to take Lucy in the middle of the night and make a run for it."

"Elizabeth, he won't-"

"Then I'll be stuck in that house alone, going even madder than I already am, only this time I'll have a baby that I can't take care of and that sleeps in an old bureau drawer because I can't afford a crib because, once again, I can't find work any-" A hand tapped her shoulder, interrupting her rant. "Yes, what?"

"The couple at the table behind me said that-" Elizabeth handed him a muffin without turning around. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Anyways, I-"

Anamaria held up a hand to stop her, eyeing her basket strangely. "Where did you get those?"

"The muffins? I made them."

"You made them yourself? Like from a box mix?"

Elizabeth huffed in offense. "Are you having a laugh? I baked these from scratch. Well, I mean, I used your muffin tins which is why I brought you the first two dozen, but the rest was me. My mum would roll over in her grave if she caught me using a box mix for anything."

"So…you're telling me you can bake muffins all on your own?" Elizabeth nodded slowly, not sure what to make of Anamaria being fascinated by something so simple. "Is that all you can bake?"

"Heavens, no. I can make biscuits, breads, tarts, cakes, brownies, scones, even bagels, but I don't really know anyone who-"

"Beg your pardon?" Another patron approached the counter, but went right for Elizabeth instead of register. "The couple over there let me try a piece of their muffins and said that you were giving them away. Could I please have one?"

Anamaria snatched the basket away before Elizabeth could blink. "That'll be two dollars, sir."

"Yeah, but they said that-"

"The world is an organic and fluid place. Now they're two dollars." The man grumbled, but still pulled out his wallet and paid. When he was gone, Anamaria finally took a bite of one for herself. The grin she gave Elizabeth as she chewed was positively feral.

"What's happening right now?"

Anamaria didn't reply, too busy pulling a waiter to the register and giving him the basket. "Assante? Here, take these muffins. Three dollars each, not a penny less."

"I made those for you! Why are you-Hey!" Elizabeth yelped as Anamaria tugged her around the counter by her elbow and dragged her into the kitchen, her near-maniacal laughter bouncing off the tiled walls.

* * *

Will shifted his car to park outside of the two-story house. His side twitched of its own volition, remembering how much it ached when he fell off the ladder painting the window trim. The only thing that had stopped him screaming in pain was Lucy's sunny toddler babbles coming from the wide porch. She seemed to have an affinity for her watching her father fall on his arse.

 _Doing plenty of that lately_ , he thought, leaning back against the headrest. _Not that I'm her favorite person right now._

He hadn't meant to be short with her that morning. It wasn't in his nature to scold her into submission. In general, he tried to guide her to the right choices and being as smart as she was, it wasn't usually hard to do. Lately, though, she was growing willful about the silliest things, like her socks. It was becoming a battle every couple of days now and he couldn't come up with one good reason why, except for the obvious one: Elizabeth.

On the surface, it made no sense. Lucy practically worshiped her, hanging the moon on her every word, and Elizabeth seemed equally as taken with her. Yet she was the only change that had come into their lives recently, and a massive one at that. Loathe as he was to admit it, maybe Jack had been right. Maybe he had pushed them together too fast. He hadn't expected the change to affect Lucy the way it had. Or, if he was being brutally honest, to affect him.

Really, though, what able-bodied heterosexual man wouldn't be affected by living with Elizabeth?

He had been exhausted after their first weekend together. Happy, but exhausted. There was nothing Elizabeth hadn't wanted to see, nothing that she hadn't been enamored with. Sophisticated as she was, she seemed to love visiting spots all over the island community that most people of her breeding – the tourists and whatnot – would have found boring or unbecoming. It seemed they didn't stop all moving around for two days except to sleep and when Monday arrived, Will was on autopilot, getting up early and finishing his shower before Lucy awoke. His internal computer had forgotten to factor in the third person in the home until he had plowed into her in the hallway, wearing nothing more than a towel.

His hands immediately went to her still-slim waist, itching at once to tug her body against him. Will was briefly able to register the look of surprise on her face before her scent invaded his senses and he felt himself getting lost in her beauty; lost in her at this present moment, warm and soft, her hair sleep tousled to perfection, and lost in the recollections of her from that long-ago night that had inadvertently brought her to him now. Without his consent, the memory of her breathy moans in his ear rang through his skull with stunning clarity. His daughter sleeping feet away from them didn't cross his mind for a minute. All control was lost as he prepared to press her to the wall, desperate to reacquaint himself with the taste of her.

The primal hunger must have been easy to read on his face for Elizabeth beat a hasty retreat to her room. It was the only thing that saved him from making such a massive mistake, which he knew it would have been given her reaction at breakfast. She was nothing if not eager to put the incident behind them, which told Will all he needed to know about her feelings on the matter:

Further exploration of whatever existed between them (whether it was chemistry, pulse-pounding desire, or something Will couldn't give a name to) was not welcome on her part. Trying to quell his sigh of disappointment as he turned away from her, reminding himself again that Elizabeth was sacrificing endlessly for him and their baby. He wouldn't make it any harder on her to be in his home than it already must be by making his attraction for her so blatantly obvious.

No matter how difficult she made it for him to keep that unspoken vow.

He didn't think it was intentional on her part, not in the first week or so. It didn't matter if she was laughing over some text her friend, Bria, had sent her or putting on make-up for another interview or asking Lucy to, once again, explain the rules of Liar's Dice as they sat around the coffee table. Anything she did made him want her all the more. It wasn't until three days ago that he started to think she was deliberately trying to drive him to his wit's end when, on his way out to load his car, he caught sight of her on the deck with her bent backwards, her breasts – increasingly becoming the focal point of his every waking thought as they grew with her pregnancy – highlighted to perfection. Seeing her like that, knowing full well how pliable she could be under certain other circumstances, blood flooded his lower body in a tidal wave.

He had never run faster out the front door in his life.

Now his days consisted of denying her temptations at all cost in between taking care of Lucy, then working until he was tired enough to fall into a dreamless, too weary for his subconscious to give into his innumerable fantasies about the woman carrying his child.

It was a wonder he hadn't taken anyone's head clean off yet with the nearest sharp object.

Today had been a close call. After dropping his surly daughter off at school in her pristine white knee socks, he made his way over to Brown's to find the shop in disarray. Apparently, the unscrupulous owner had found his way into his business some time during the night. Parts and tools were scattered every which way, the odor of cheap liquor heavy in the air. Being the first one in, Will was forced to clean up most of the mess, with Samuel and the others joining as they came in. It wasn't the first time Brown had pulled something like that. It was the first time he had managed to keep himself concealed in the shop without anyone else noticing. Will had been working on a complicated realignment when someone ripped his headphones off and started pushing him out the door. He heard Brown groaning and retching loudly from a supply closet before Samuel rushed him away, promising to bring his tools and his pay by later.

His day shot, he contemplated his options. There were really only two: He could go home and get a head start on some of the work in he had waiting for him. There was a broken carburetor sitting on his table or an ancient Ducati that needed its fuel injector replaced. Going home, he also ran the risk of running into Elizabeth, doing the devil's work with her damned yoga that he was almost convinced Jack had probably somehow encouraged her to start just to torture him even more. So that left one choice, one he had been putting off for too long.

Opening the wrought-iron gate, Will made his way up the porch, almost hoping that she wouldn't answer when he rang the bell. Like everything else today, the universe looked the other way and a middle-aged woman with startlingly blue eyes greeted him with surprise.

"William!" Pulling his tall form to her, she squeezed him gently for a long while before letting him go. "It's been ages! Come right inside, I just put the kettle on."

"Thanks, Ms. Calvert."

She elbowed him lightly as they went into the spacious living room, settling each on one of the cushy armchairs. "I brought your daughter into world, young man. I don't mind you calling me Corrine."

"My mother raised me to show the utmost respect to those that deserve it. You, Ms. Calvert, deserve it for helping me make sure my daughter came to me healthy."

"You best have brought pictures. I need a new one for my wall." She nodded towards the bulletin board covered with pictures of smiling babies and children, nearly everyone being held by their mothers. As far as he knew, Will was the only father on that board. Pulling Lucy's latest school picture out, he handed it over and Corrine gushed. "Oh, you're going to need to develop a very fierce and scary face soon. She's going to have the lads lining up to win her hand someday."

"No worries, I've got a plan already."

"What's that?"

"Dungeon. I got contractors drawing up sketches as we speak."

"For her or the lads?"

"Haven't decided yet. Probably the lads. She'd figure out how to escape fairly quickly."

"I don't doubt it." Taking the picture, she hung it on the board, leaving him alone in the room when the kettle started whistling. He took the moment to calm his nerves and try to come up with a way to say what he needed. Nothing had come to mind when she reappeared with two steaming mugs of Earl Grey. "So, what brings you by today? Fancy a nice, long chat like the old days."

"Not exactly." Taking a long sip, he steeled himself. Pulling another picture out of his pocket, he handed it to her more slowly this time. She knew what it was as soon as she saw it, as any professional midwife would. Still, he knew she he'd make him say the words. "Lucy's going to be a big sister."

Her sigh cut him. He hated disappointing people, especially someone who had helped him over the years the way Corrine had. She examined him carefully when she gave back Elizabeth's scan. "I don't suppose my wedding invitation was lost in the mail, was it?"

"No. It, uh, just happened one night."

"Babies do not 'just happen one night', William. They happen when they're planned for or when they're not. No in-between. I'm assuming this one falls into the decidedly not category, which means, despite my warnings, you still carried on with behavior we both know deep down is beneath you."

"It wasn't like that," Will argued, unwilling to label anything about that night with Elizabeth as anything less than what it had been to him. "I mean, yes it started that way, but…she's different. It wasn't tasteless between us."

"Just extremely reckless." Will was decent enough to not try and explain that part of the night away. "You would think being as close to Jack Sparrow as you are that you'd be smart enough to slip a prophylactic into your wallet occasionally. He must have them in candy bowls all over his house."

"Even if he did, where I'm supposed to put one? Behind a picture of my daughter? Not a pleasant sight for me."

"No, but it could have served as a reminder of what results when we don't wear them with our one-night stands."

He waved the scan before putting it away for good. "This isn't a bad result. I'm not unhappy and neither is Elizabeth. We both want the baby, I promise."

Corrine's scolding turned into a small smile. "Elizabeth? She's the one you took to Tortuga, isn't she?"

"How'd you know about that?"

"Small island town full of nosey Nellies, that's how. Can I also presume she's the one staying in your house to help get on her feet after she moved?"

"Yes."

"Just so you know, that story isn't holding much water with folks. Although the real one will probably come out soon enough if I take her on as a patient."

"Suppose it will. You can take her, can't you? You aren't attending to too many right now?" Will's eyes pleaded with her. "You are the best midwife in the whole area, after all."

"Indeed I am." Getting up from the chair, she started for the desk underneath the board before she paused, her patterned skirt billowing. "She **does** want to have a midwife, right? You've asked her?"

"No," he admitted, hanging his head to stare at his feet.

"William…"

"You're all I can afford, Ms. Calvert. The only one who'll take someone with no health insurance."

"I can't eat roof repairs and lawn mowing. I'm divorced now. This house isn't paid off yet. Cash is a must this time."

"You'll get it," he promised. "I'm working at Brown's now-"

"Not if you're here drinking my tea while we argue!"

"-and I'm taking in more repair work now that Lucy's in school. I can pay in cash, I swear. And there might be something more coming up for me soon." His gut still twisted sharply at the thought of Henry Demarcus and all he could potentially offer to Will's future if that meeting – whenever it happened- went as well as Will needed it to. Shoving the mystery man aside, he focused on Corrine. "I promise you, I can pay."

"And if she doesn't want to be cared for by a midwife?" Corrine asked.

"She will once she meets you. There's no one better. You'll deliver her in the hospital if that's what she wants and you'll give her more focus than any overworked doctor with ten patients an hour ever could."

He liked to believe it was his flattery that had won her over, but more than likely Corrine had seen how desperately he needed her. Whichever it was, he took it when she reluctantly nodded in agreement. Going to her desk, parts of her dirt-brown hair fell loose from her messy bun as she bent over a calendar. "When did she conceive?"

"Middle of February."

"Then she's almost at the end of her first trimester. I'll need to see her soon. Were there any problems when she was seen before?"

"No, she said everything was fine. Just a slightly high blood pressure, but the doctor thought it was from all the stress of everything. The baby had a good heartbeat."

"Alright then. Give her my number and I'll make room for her."

"Thank you." He rose to squeeze her hands in appreciation. "You're a lifesaver."

"That I am."

"I'll get going. Don't want to steal anymore of your time."

"It's never been stolen when it's with you, William." She walked him outside, stopping him on the steps. "How's Lucy handling all of this?"

"I haven't told her yet. It's still too early to say anything."

"No, not about the baby. I mean with this young woman you have living with you. Lucy's only ever known just you and her together in the house; how is it with a third?"

He shrugged, not knowing how to answer. "I'm not sure. She's been…not really acting out, but a little more crabby with me since Elizabeth moved in."

"Do they get along?"

"Yeah, they're brilliant. Most of the time, they pretend I'm not even in the room with them."

"Well, what about when they're alone? Any issues then that either of them have mentioned?"

"No. They aren't…They're not really alone that much." Corrine frowned in confusion and he tried to explain. "Elizabeth didn't come here to be a nanny. She's trying to find a job, trying to get her own place eventually, and that's already making her anxious, though she's trying not to let me see it. I don't want to cause her anymore stress."

"How would spending time with your daughter be stressful for Elizabeth? Besides, that would give you more time to work, earn a bit more money, if she was minding her after school. Kill many birds with one little stone, wouldn't it?"

 _Yes, and it could also scare her if she thinks I moved her into my house just to play Instant Parent with a child who isn't hers. Then she'd hightail it out of there even faster. Any ghost of a prayer of a chance I'd have of convincing her that I'm worth her favor would be gone._

He couldn't tell Corrine that; he couldn't even admit to himself most of the time. After their run-in outside the shower, Will was all but certain whatever feelings Elizabeth may have for him remained strictly in the platonic realm. Yet every once in a while, when his back was to her, he could have sworn that he felt Elizabeth's eyes on him, boring into him with an intensity he recalled her using when she had been perched wantonly above him during their one night together. It allowed hope to grow the slightest bit before interaction with her where she did everything possible connect with him crushed it. Still, the hope felt too good to let it go completely, despite the pain that followed. For the first time, he thought he had a bit of understanding of what Rebecca had gone through and that was disconcerting enough to bring him back to Corrine.

"I'll make sure Elizabeth calls you by tomorrow to set up an appointment," he said. He tried to leave again, but she put a steadying hand on him to halt his progress.

"This is an imperfect diagnosis, considering I'm getting all my information from you, but here it is," she began. "Lucy is crabby. Elizabeth is anxious. Granted, they're both undergoing some major adjustments right now, so that's to be expected. My thought is that, perhaps, given how you say they get along so well together and you're always there as a third-wheel, might we consider letting them have a little girl time? Alone? Away from you?"

"What?"

"William!" She chastised him like a school boy. "Lucy's never really had long term, one-on-one time with a woman before, unless you count Anamaria who is not always the epitome of maternal ideals. She probably didn't know what she was missing until she got a taste of it. Elizabeth is pregnant and probably wanting to test out the skills she's going to need soon." Corrine smirked with a shrug when he realized what she meant. "I think your ladies are trying to tell you something without telling you something."

"Right," he drawled, thinking over the last two weeks in a new light. Could it be true? By keeping them apart, had he inadvertently been hurting the two most important people in his life? Troubled, he headed back to his car. "T-Thanks again."

"William?" He turned back when he was past the gate to find her smirk growing playful. "If this new one's a girl, naming her after me would be a lovely gesture…"

He had to laugh at that. "If it's another girl, that'll be your payment. All my money will be tied up in a bigger dungeon."

"Get out of here, you." She waved him off before going back inside and Will left, grateful as always for the sage wisdom that had gotten him through Lucy's birth and early years.

It was almost time to pick up Lucy and after a full day away from him, she seemed pleased enough to see him, jumping right in his arms for a bear hug. Whatever else could or would go wrong later, he'd always have her and that eased him in a way nothing else ever could. Of course, the first thing she did when she was buckled was to rip knee socks off and fling them aside, wiggling her little toes as she went over the entirety of her day, allowing for very few interruptions. They were already at the house by the time she got to recess, running up the porch barefooted and pointing out his tools sitting by the door. Instead of going inside, she waited for him to pass Elizabeth's jeep.

"I smell something." She sniffed loudly, her brow crinkling. "It smells…yummy."

When he reached her, he nodded his head in agreement. Something inside did smells delicious, sweet and inviting. Will could also hear the faint strains of music through the wood. With only a tiny bit of trepidation, he slowly opened the door and poked his head inside, his daughter doing the same below him, both shocked at what they saw.

If he had thought Brown's had been in disarray this morning, he was going to need a definition of that word. There were full brown bags from the grocer covering all the free space of the kitchen that wasn't occupied by baking trays and mixing bowls. From his spot, he could make out two freshly-made pies cooling on a top of the half wall and what looked like a dozen cupcakes waiting to be frosted near the sink.

"Ah! Biscuits…" Lucy gasped and he saw four platefuls on the table, all different flavors.

"I know, right?!" Will tried to answer Elizabeth, but her back was to him and her phone was pressed to her ear. She moved lithely in the small space, pulling brownies out of the oven that made his mouth water almost as much as she did, flushed and grinning as she chatted on the phone. "It's amazing…No, we're going to plan the new menu together when I bring her the samples…Officially, Monday because it'll be a slow shift to settle me in, but I'm going in to meet everyone tomorrow and learn the kitchen better…Yes…Yes! I'm over the moon…It's the best thing ever besides…" She trailed off when she saw them unmoving in the doorway and she gestured frantically for them to come in. "Bria, I have to go. Will and Lucy just walked in…Yes, I'll call you later tomorrow...No, it'll be after midnight your time…You'd better not be up that late on a school night…Yes, I love you, too… No, I'm not telling either of them that. Goodbye." She hung up, shutting the oven door with her foot and turning off the iPod that had been playing something old, from the sixties or seventies by Will's guess. "Guess what?! I got a job!"

He grinned reflexively, outwardly proud and inwardly forcing himself to be happy for her. "That's great!"

Lucy needed no such pushing. At once, she was at Elizabeth's side, hugging her before she even took her backpack off. "Congratulations! Is that why you made so many sweets? Are we having a party?"

"Thank you, Lucy-Goosey." The pet name rolled easily off her tongue and Will's smile was real this time. Releasing her, Elizabeth spun around the room, arms raised. "This is not for a party. This is for my job. You are looking the new baker at Dulzura!" She laughed out loud, giddy. "I'm a baker! Can you believe it?"

"Why didn't you tell us you could bake when we asked you if you had any special skills? Anamaria would have had you over there the day after you arrived. She's been frantic since Juanita gave her notice."

"Because I didn't know it was a skill. I never took any classes or anything. It was always just something I did on a lark, something for fun. Baking was never work." Going back to a bowl, she scooped out a spoonful of frosting and let Lucy take a small bite, pulling it back when she tried to instantly take another. "Good, right? Not too much coffee flavor?" At Lucy's nod, Elizabeth started frosting the cupcakes. "Baking was what I was doing today when I couldn't get the grocer to even hand me an application. I came back here to destress and decided to bring Anamaria the first batch of muffins. Only the customers there kept asking for them, then she started selling them and they paid! Will, they paid for something that I made! It was the most incredible feeling ever! It was almost better than…than other things. Anyways, Anamaria pulled me into the kitchen and had me make something else. Cinnamon rolls with orange glaze and guess what?"

"The customers bought them too."

"They did! They wanted even more! Anamaria had to start turning them away with promises that there'd be a new and improved menu at the café starting next week. She's going to let me make a menu for her. Can you believe it?!"

"Yeah, I can," Will told her, wishing he had the nerve to hug her the way Lucy had. Seeing her this happy filled him with a warmth he couldn't contain. "You're amazing. I believe you can do anything."

"T-Thanks," she replied, smearing a bit too much frosting on one of the cupcakes and scrapping it to start over. "I'll get this mess cleared up straightaway, I swear. Anamaria wanted samples so we can go over ingredients and things. We're invited there for dinner if you guys want to go. I'm bringing this over to her."

"Can't we just have all this for dinner?" Lucy asked them eagerly and Will had to chuckle.

"No, because than you won't sleep for the next week." He gently nudged her out of the kitchen. "Go get changed, leave your uniform by the washer." When she was gone, he turned back to Elizabeth. The familiar tremors of tension were still ever-present at being alone with her, but he pushed past it. "I'm really happy for you, Elizabeth."

"Guess I did have a place here after all then."

Summoning his nerve, he hoped she believed him. "You did before all this. I promise."

If she did, he couldn't tell because she hid her profile behind a curtain of hair. Cursing himself, he could almost see her wall going back around her before she spoke again. "So, um, it looks like I'm going to go in early most days for six, to get everything prepped and all, but I'll be out no later than two in the afternoon."

"That doesn't sound too bad," he said, moving to get a drink of water. The combination of the sweltering kitchen and her presence was parching his throat. "You get a bit of time to-"

"I was thinking I could get Lucy after school." He whirled around, unsure if he had her correctly. All she let him see was her back. "I mean, you can't always be finished your work at the shop right when she gets out and if I'm already done for the day, it's silly for you to have to leave."

"You…You don't think you'll be too tired to manage her?"

"Will, she's not any trouble! She's wonderful!"

"Yes, ninety-eight percent of the time, but what about like this morning? Can you handle her if she doesn't want to do her schoolwork or wants to keep reading instead of tidying her room?"

"I'll have to, won't I?" Finished with her cupcakes, she started packing them into a plastic container. "If I do it wrong, you'll tell me and if I do it right, I'll know it for myself. You're still her father. You get final say over anything for her. This isn't about…I just…I want to…"

Corrine's diagnosis came to mind. "Practice on her? For when the baby comes?"

Elizabeth looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "No. I'd like to spend time with her is all. I'm happy when I spend time with her. Happier, I should say."

 _Well, if she was happier, getting her to stay might be a bit easier. Not to mention that seeing her happy makes_ _ **you**_ _happy._

"I'll talk to her teacher when I drop her tomorrow. Just make sure you have your ID with you."

"Really? You…You trust me with her?"

Now it was his turn to look at her strangely. Trusted her? What was he doing wrong that she doubted that? "Of course, I do. She's mad for you. I'm sorry I didn't bring it up with you sooner."

"It's ok. We both should have mentioned things sooner." She gestured to the veritable sweet shop she had opened in his kitchen. "Could have saved myself a lot of embarrassment at those interviews. But as you are lacking in any proper baking tins, I didn't even have a chance to."

"You didn't buy all these, did you?"

"No, no. Anamaria sent me home with some from Dulzura and I still had the ones Bootstrap let me grab this morning."

Whatever heat he had been feeling left his body when he heard Elizabeth say that name. Eager to believe he had misheard her, he asked, "Bootstrap?"

"Yeah, Jack's friend. He let me in the house earlier. He seems like an interesting man. We had a good talk."

 _Bootstrap talked to her?_ Will thought, feeling rage he had rarely experienced mount within him. _Bootstrap was alone in a fucking room with her?_

His temper was ready to snap and he didn't want to be around Elizabeth when it did. He had someone else he wanted to do that in front of.

"Um, listen, do you mind if I go put some stuff away in the shed? I won't be long."

Her smile should have been the antidote that cured him, but not with how angry he was at this moment. "No, I'll be fine with Lucy. Take all the time you need. Say, Lucy!" Elizabeth called out. "Do you want to help me pack some of this away while you tell me about school? I want to hear how that pet rabbit is working out!"

He was already out the door by the time Lucy arrived, their chatter mixing with the music Elizabeth turned back on. Grabbing his tools, he quickly threw them in his shed before stalking over to Jack's property, heading straight out back for the docks, every step he took darkening the red he could see behind his eyes. He saw nothing but scarlet by the time he found Bootstrap emerge from his boat.

The two men united by blood only stared each other down silently from a distance for a time until Will was finally able to speak without screaming. "Don't go near her again."

"Will, I didn't-"

"You don't look at her from across the way. You don't wave at her. You don't even get near the thought of speaking to her again."

"She came over here. There-"

"And if she does again while you're alone in the house, you ignore her until she goes away. Do you understand me?"

Bootstrap swallowed and nodded, leaning against the mast. "If that's what you want, then fine. I won't approach her. But if she comes to me, I can't just-"

"Is that how you rationalized it with my daughter?!" Will took a deep breath, to keep his voice low and to stop himself from lunging for Bootstrap. "That a four-year-old just came up to you and you couldn't do a fucking thing about it so you decided you might as well have a little chat with her?"

"No. It wasn't something I planned."

"Yeah, I know. That's your specialty, doing something you want and leaving someone else to clean up the mess, which will be my job when Lucy realizes what you really are: a miserable sonofabitch that no one should ever waste their time on." Bootstrap nodded, as always accepting the punishment that Will never failed to deliver to the man he couldn't call his father. His feet were back on the sand when Bootstrap called out to him.

"William?"

He stopped. He hated with fire that Bootstrap saying his name could still make him stop. "What?"

"Jack told me about the baby. Congratulations." With that, he disappeared below deck.

Will ground his teeth together, pulling out his phone to give Jack a verbal arse-whipping of epic proportions as he made his way back home. Thinking of the bastard must be some sort of signal because before Will could pull up his contacts, Jack texted him and he stopped short near the front door as he read it:

" **DeMarcus is in town. Wants to meet you soon. Hope you're ready."**

His free hand rested on the doorknob as he listened to Lucy and Elizabeth joking on the other side, his stomach coiling as the power of that text settled in there. This could be the job that changed his life. Getting by had been the goal for so long that thinking to try for more had long since fallen by the wayside. He had forgotten what it was like to have something of consequence depending on how well he performed his job. If he landed it, if the commissions or pay were even a slim percentage of what he was imagining, this would change not only his life, but the lives of the people inside that kitchen forever.

He could move to a bigger house. He could send Lucy to one of the private schools in Kingston. He could make enough to afford the best healthcare for all of them. He could make sure that his second child had all the things he hadn't been able to give Lucy the first time.

He could show Elizabeth how good he was for her. He could show her that, if she wanted it, he could make a life for them that was worthy of her.

They could do it together.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: And we're back! The time off was restorative with this being perhaps my favorite chapter thus far. Thank you to all who have reviewed, anonymous or otherwise, it is so appreciated! Please forgive any errors and let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Killer Queen" rang out from the confines of Elizabeth's purse as she exited the car. Throwing Will an apologetic look, she rolled her eyes and took the call, falling behind him going up the steps to Corrine's quaint home.

"Bria, we're walking into my appointment right now. I can't talk."

"Dr. Julian Brown-Selton. He practiced for over twenty years at Royal London Hospital and delivered thousands of healthy children. He's living outside Montego Bay now. Just let me make one-"

"No," she said, keeping a tight hold on the container of scones in her free hand.

"He's a professional, Lizzie! A trained physician, not some floozy who's-"

"Competent, compassionate, and completely above board, registered with the Nursing and Midwifery Council in Wales before she moved here. I've told you a hundred times already. I like Corrine. I want her to deliver my baby. Besides, Will says that she-"

"Well, if Will told you to do something, I'm just wasting my breath, aren't I?" Elizabeth could hear papers being shuffled about violently over Bria's inelegant snort of derision. "God forbid I have an opinion regarding the safety and well-being of my dearest friend that goes against Will Turner's."

She ignored her friend's slight against Will, though she found that it was getting harder and harder to do. "This isn't London. I don't have health insurance yet. I've only been working for two weeks. Anamaria is pushing everything along, but it'll still be a bit before-"

"Listen, I love you and if you want to go on living a fantasy in the tropics with no sophistication or electricity, be my guest. I support you fully."

"Thank you, darling," Elizabeth said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You're welcome. But if you keep being this willful little demon where your health and the health of that bairn is concerned, I'm going to have to start being less polite with my worries."

"This has been you being polite and friendly?!"

"Yes, it has. If you would like to avoid dealing with the alternative, let me ring up the good doctor Brown-Selton. You'll thank me six months from now after your lovely epidural wears off and the incision from your elective caesarean heals."

"Dear Lord, you're impossible." Will knocked on the door and she stepped away from him to other side of the porch, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I left England to avoid my father planning out my life, not for you to take over the reins from him."

"That isn't what-"

"Maybe not intentionally, but you are and it needs to stop! I will decide how this baby comes into the world. No one else but me." She glanced over her shoulder quickly. "And Will. We'll decide together what's best for **our** baby."

There was silence on the other end. Elizabeth was almost certain they had lost their connection when she finally heard Bria murmur, "I miss you. I know I've been a right nasty slag lately, but I'm just gutted here without you, Lizzie."

The front door opened and Corrine greeted them. Elizabeth motioned that she'd be a moment and Corrine nodded, leading Will inside. "I miss you, too. Every hour of every day."

"Yes, but it's different on your side. You have your new job, your new friends, your…whatever the hell he is to you. All I've got is a sparsely decorated office I can't escape and whomever I manage to drag home with me from late night cocktails at the Purple Bar."

"Bria…"

"And I'm overjoyed for you, I promise. No one deserves it more. Seeing you stifled and unhappy all these years was torture. I just wish I could see you now that it's all been flipped on its head is all."

"You can. You're welcome here whenever you want." Elizabeth tried to smile, aching to see her best friend. "I'll make two dozen batches of sticky toffee brownies just for you."

It was Bria's turn to sigh tiredly. "I know you would. I'm absolutely swamped with work right now though."

"Me too. There's this enormous festival in town in a few weeks that's taking up every spare minute at the café. Apparently, we're doing a massive desert buffet for it, only Anamaria keeps changing her mind on what she wants us to serve."

"Sounds like more fun than I'm having. I swear, every female client this past week has wanted to kill their sod of a soon-to-be ex off for diddling the au pair. Don't hire one of those. They could turn monks into bloody wankers with a bat of the eye."

"I won't."

"Good. Now, speaking of bloody wankers…"

"Careful. You're about to veer into slag territory again."

"How is the dashing Mr. Turner these days?" Elizabeth could perfectly picture Bria leaning back in her chair, a lecherous grin on her face. "Shag him in the shower yet?"

"Ugh," Elizabeth groaned, propping herself on the railing and doing her best not to conjure up the image of Will, shirtless and gleaming, when she was about to be in a confined space with him. "I should never have told you about that."

"We learn these things the hard way. Now, spill it: what's going on with you two lately?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. I mean, everything is going great between us," Elizabeth replied, keeping her voice as steady as possible. "Listen, I've got to run. We're having a scan today. I love you."

"I love you, too. Which, by the way, is why I know you're not telling me the truth about everything being so great between you and the Condomless Wonder."

"Briana!"

"But I'm going to let you get away with it for now. Do you know why?"

"Because in your own maddening way, you love me?"

"Top of the class, my Lizzie is. Go have a look at that beautiful bairn of yours. Call me later."

"Bye." Turning the phone off, Elizabeth shoved it back in her purse, wishing she could shove her crowding thoughts into it as well.

 _Serves you right for opening your trap to Bria_ , she scolded herself silently, taking another minute alone in the Caribbean heat to collect herself. _Now she's taken him off first name basis again. That'll take at least a month to rectify. And for what? It isn't like there was a big fight or anything crazy. It's just_ _ **you**_ _acting crazy._

Except she wasn't, not truly. The moment she had started working, things had been different. Some of the changes were fantastic. Nearly every morning, she went to work and let her creativity flow in ways she had never imagined, tweaking old recipes and creating brand new ones on the spot to the delight of Dulzura's customers. According to Anamaria, profits were up almost ten percent from the same period last year, which she wasn't shy about giving Elizabeth the sole credit for. And as draining as it could be sometimes to put in a full day on her feet in a scorching kitchen, especially as they were also prepping for a huge event that could bring them even more business, Elizabeth never felt it when two o'clock rolled around.

Not when she got to see Lucy's bright smile at the end of her workday.

There had been fears, certainly: fears that Lucy wouldn't listen to her; fears that she'd would grow to resent someone besides her father taking care of her; fears that she'd run to Will when he came home and say how horrible Elizabeth was to her. Thankfully, every fear was baseless. From the time she climbed into Elizabeth's jeep until the moment she jumped into Will's arms when he walked into the kitchen in the early evening, joy permeated the time Elizabeth and Lucy spent together. Every day, she got to know Lucy a bit better and every day she fell further under the spell the little girl had started casting that first afternoon on the park bench. It didn't matter if she wanted to hear pirate stories or play on the beach or draw an endless amount of Christmas trees; whenever they were together, they were encased in happiness.

Even Lucy's qualities that some might have found exasperating – the constant questions and chatter or the innate stubbornness that she had clearly inherited from Will – only endeared her more to Elizabeth. And on the rare occasions when a firmer voice was required, be it needing to be told to put toys away more than once or to stop construction on a particularly large sandcastle to wash for dinner, Lucy never blinked or threw a fit. She accepted that Elizabeth was in charge almost at once, long before Elizabeth did herself. Her stomach would explode with butterflies whenever Lucy's behavior needed a slight correction. She didn't want Lucy to hate her, but she wanted to know that when the time came, discipline was something she was capable of with her own child. It made her realize that perhaps Will's ideas about practicing hadn't been as farfetched as she had first believed.

What wasn't farfetched was the evidence slowly building that something was pulling Will away. There was nothing concrete that she could point to, just a series of subtle changes she had noticed since her job began: constantly checking his phone, hushed conversations with Jack when they were at his place, and more time spent alone in his shed, even with him being able to work longer hours at Brown's. He was keeping something from her. It was what made her hesitate with Bria earlier.

She was carrying his child and he was keeping something from her.

Or, when her hormones were running roughshod, as they were now, he was keeping **someone** from her attention.

Elizabeth wasn't a fool. She didn't own him. She had no claim on him, no matter how much her chest tingled and fluttered when he gifted her with one of his smiles. There had obviously been women before her and when she was finally out of his house, there'd be women after her. Why wouldn't there be? Will was charming, intelligent, and utterly caring, all wrapped up in a devastatingly handsome package. What sane woman wouldn't want him? He was free to pursue whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted. But did he have to do it right under her nose, like she was…

 _He's_ _ **not**_ _pursuing anything with anyone_ , the voice of her better angels insisted before she went completely off the rails. _He's a good, honorable man who would never disrespect you like that. You know that, Elizabeth._

She did know that. She had known that even at the bar of the Black Pearl. But she was also desperate to know what was holding Will back from her.

A hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present. "Is everything okay?" Will asked her gently, concern lacing his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him, quickly schooling her features when she turned. Gathering her treats, she followed him inside past the waiting/sitting room. "Sorry I took so long. Bria can be grueling when she wants to be."

"No worries. I've got one of those too."

"Yes, but I doubt that Jack could go on a ten-minute soliloquy about certain parts of the male anatomy."

"You'd be surprised," Will said, giving her one of his grins. The all-too familiar pull in her chest accompanied it and his hand on her lower back didn't help matters along at all as they went upstairs into one of the bedrooms Corrine had turned into an exam room, complete with a medical table and all manners of equipment. Elizabeth couldn't help but notice as she sat on the table how much older everything in here seemed compared to what she had seen on her one visit to the clinic.

Whatever qualms she felt alleviated when Corrine joined them, wearing a stethoscope and carrying a folder. "Hello, Elizabeth," she greeted her with a warm smile. "How are you feeling today?"

"Great." She paused and then admitted. "Nervous."

"Every mother is on a scan day." Corrine patted her arm in support, glancing down at Elizabeth's lap. "I hope whatever is in that box isn't for me, young lady. There's still nearly half a loaf of sourdough in my breadbox."

She grinned sheepishly. "Guava scones with honey butter."

"Thank you. You're an angel, but I swear I'm going to gain more weight with this pregnancy than you are," Corrine huffed as she took the proffered treats and set them aside before opening the folder. "So, all your bloodwork came back looking fine. You're not anemic, iron levels are normal, no genetic markers for anything worrisome. Everything is progressing splendidly so far. Any symptoms or pain that's troubling you?"

"No. Still a little cramping sometimes. Not anything too painful, though, and no bleeding."

"Good. How's the morning sickness?"

"Mostly gone. I'm almost feeling brave enough to make a breakfast scramble again."

"Any dizziness or swelling anywhere?"

"No, I feel fine. Lots of energy actually."

"Enjoy it while it lasts."

"She's had headaches the last couple of nights when I've come home," Will offered from his spot next to her. "Not bad ones I think, but she-"

"How did you know that?" Elizabeth asked him, frowning. "I didn't say anything."

"You were rubbing your forehead a little during dinner and you were quieter." He shrugged a bit and she flushed slightly, unaware of how much attention he had been paying to her. "I just figured it ought to be mentioned in case it was…"

"They're normal," Corrine said to Will as she started to take Elizabeth's blood pressure and other vitals. "Elizabeth and I discussed them on her first visit. Lots of hormones surging right now that can cause them, plus the caffeine restriction that you are hopefully adhering to and the stress from a new job can all play a part. If your vision isn't blurred and the pain isn't too severe, we don't need to worry about them." Releasing the cuff after she recorded the reading, she turned her gaze back to Elizabeth. "However, it is important to speak up if you feel that anything is amiss, even something that seems minor. Everything that affects you affects the baby. I can't help either of you if I don't have all the information."

"I understand." She shot a playful glare at Will. "Apparently this one won't let me get away with anything, will he?"

"Sorry," he apologized ruefully, shuffling on his feet slightly. "Old habits die hard."

 _Rebecca_ , her mind answered before the question fully formed. _Poor man_. _He must have had to watch every move she made to make sure Lucy was safe_.

A chill suddenly swept over her at the idea of Will not being there to protect that sweet little girl before she even took her first breath; of there not being someone to pick up from school when she left here that would hug her like she was the only thing tethering them both to the ground. Without looking at him, she took his hand in hers and squeezed, laying their joint hands next to her on the table. A current of heat shot up her arm at the contact, rushing straight to her chest.

Did he feel it too?

It couldn't all be just her, could it? Her eyes refused to move, equally afraid of what she would or wouldn't find in his.

Oblivious to the subtle charge in the room, Corrine put the folder down and plopped down on a rolling stool, pulling the ultrasound machine over and gently pushed Elizabeth until she was laying on her back. "Now the main event. Are you ready?"

"Very much." Corrine lifted the bottom of her shirt and unbuttoned her shorts until her stomach was exposed. Elizabeth fought hard not to squirm. There was only the tiniest bit of roundness to her figure, barely even noticeable to Elizabeth herself, but it was there and she was acutely aware that this was the most of her body that Will had seen since their night together. Still, despite her discomfort, she wouldn't – **couldn't** – release Will's hand.

"How about you, William?"

"A-Absolutely."

"Good. Let's have a peak then." Squirting a bit of cold gel on Elizabeth's bare skin, Corrine pushed the wand down onto her stomach and pressed a button on the machine.

After a few maneuvers of the device, a steady thrumming filled the room, akin to the pounding hooves of horses Elizabeth had seen in her youth during many tedious polo matches Father had dragged her to. Her mouth fell open in wonder as she heard her baby's heartbeat for the first time; immediately and indelibly it was imprinted into Elizabeth's mind, a core memory she would never let go of. "Oh my God," she breathed, her eyes falling closed, a smile gracing her lips. "It's so fast…That's amazing."

"Best symphony in the world," Corrine agreed with a small laugh. "Only one thing that can top it."

"What?"

"If you open your eyes, you can see for yourself."

When she did, Elizabeth turned her head to see the black and white profile of her baby projected on the small screen. What was once the size of a raspberry just a few weeks ago was now more akin to a plum, something tangible that she could hold in the palm of her hand.

"Look at you," she whispered reverently, no one in the universe for her except that tiny being that seemed to be waving at her. "Look at those arms and legs and tiny little fingers. You're getting so big." Like she had at the clinic, her fingers reached out towards the screen, caressing the shadowy picture, hoping somehow that her baby could feel her love across the barriers that still divided them.

"No visible abnormalities or defects," Corrine said, squinting slightly at the image. "Excellent heartbeat and movement. Almost six centimeters long. I'm putting your pregnancy at over thirteen weeks along." She smiled at her oblivious patient. "Congratulations. Welcome to the second trimester."

Corrine's words penetrated her dazed mind, but it was the feel of Will's hand tenderly squeezing hers that truly registered. She finally drew her eyes to find him staring down at her, a shy smile lighting his face as his gaze flickered between hers and the screen her fingers were still tracing. Everything about that sweet, doting look pulled her in deeper.

 _I hope he looks just like his father_ , she thought helplessly. _I hope he looks exactly like Will._

"Can you tell yet if it's a boy or a girl?" Elizabeth heard herself ask Corrine.

"You want to know now?" Will asked, his brow furrowed.

"Of course. Didn't you find out with Lucy?"

"No, it was kind of fun having a bit of mystery to it. Made for a nice surprise at the end."

"You don't think this," Elizabeth looked down at her stomach, "was enough of a surprise already?"

He chuckled in agreement. "True enough."

Elizabeth smiled eagerly and turned back to Corrine. "Well, blue or pink?"

The practiced midwife studied the screen closely before she shook her head. "Sorry, love. The little one wants to keep it a secret a bit longer. At the next scan in a month or so we should be able to tell then.""

There was a small burst of disappointment, but it was tempered when the picture was printed and placed in Elizabeth's hand. She was still staring at it, smitten, when they made their way outside to their respective cars, he to go back to work and her to go pick up Lucy from school. She finally took her attention away from the scan to thank him for coming with her when he pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Who is it?" Elizabeth asked neutrally as he skimmed through a long text.

"Nothing," he replied at once, quickly putting the phone from sight and offering her another smile. Only instead of lightening her heart, it darkened it considerably because he was using it to distract her, to hide something from her.

He was using it to lie to her.

"Fine," she said, turning swiftly and clutching the photo as she went to her jeep, willing her emotions into control. She wouldn't let this moment be tainted by anything.

"Elizabeth, what's-?"

"I need to go get Lucy. I don't want her to wait."

His hand on her wrist stopped her and he compelled her to face him. "What's wrong? Why are you-?"

Elizabeth freed herself from his grasp and pressed the photo of their child into his chest, unable to stop herself. "Do you know what this means? This means you can't shut me out of your life."

His eyes flashed something that bordered on dangerous. "How could you possibly think that I've been shutting you out? You're here, living in my home, taking care of my daughter, every single day. How is that anything within the realm of-?"

"Who keeps calling?" He closed his mouth and she pounced. "You keep getting these texts and calls that take you so deep into your own head I almost have to throw something at you to bring you back."

"It's…It's a work thing. That's all it is, I promise."

"What kind of work?" His eyes left hers and her shoulders sagged. He wouldn't tell her. Sighing, she put the picture safely in her purse. "I've got to get going." Without giving him a chance to reply, she climbed in her car and pulled away from him.

 _His turn to see how it feels_ , she fumed silently.

It was good that it was a long drive to Lucy's school. Elizabeth needed nearly the whole length to calm herself. When the bell finally rang, she was already out of her car, searching for the little girl amidst the rows of other children and was promptly rewarded when Lucy flew to her, wrapping her arms around Elizabeth's waist so tightly that Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder if the baby could feel it too.

 _There, that's better_ , she thought, running her hands through Lucy's unruly strands. Now that she was going in before Lucy woke up, Will was back on hair duty in the mornings with unsurprisingly horrid results. _We'll go home, straighten out this rat's nest, ignore the fact that her father is…why is she so quiet?_

Elizabeth went to her knees and gently tipped Lucy's chin up to get a good look at her. There were no tears, but the despondency in her hazel eyes was so absolute that Elizabeth wanted to scream aloud. Trying hard to quell the panic stirring within her, Elizabeth asked, "What is it? What's the matter?"

Instead of answering, Lucy asked plaintively, "Can we please go home?"

Unable to deny her, Elizabeth ushered her into the car, past the curious stares from the mothers that hadn't abated since she had begun picking up Lucy from school. It wasn't the time, though, to worry about being the subject of town gossip. She only wanted to get Lucy somewhere where she'd feel safe enough for that dreadful look to disappear.

It was their quietest ride home yet. Lucy seemed content to listen to the wind rushing past them through the open-air vehicle while Elizabeth was nearly paralyzed with indecision as she drove: Should she call Will, have him meet them at the house? Should she sit Lucy down to talk? Should she just ignore it? What if it was serious? A teacher or classmate hurting her? Maybe she should just whip the car around and start interrogating anyone left on the school grounds who might have seen…

 _Yes, because that's not the behavior of an insane person, is it?_ Elizabeth gritted her teeth in frustration. _How the fuck does Will do this? How does he just_ _ **know**_ _what the right thing to do to help her?_

There were still no words between them when they arrived back at the house and Elizabeth felt her heart cracking watching Lucy walk up the porch steps with her head down, heading straight for her bedroom and shutting the door behind her. It was maddening; to go from such a high no more than hour ago of hearing the baby's heartbeat to now, powerless to help such an innocent child shoulder whatever was troubling her mind. She had an almost insurmountable urge to rip her shoes off and fling them in a fit or stomp across the floorboard screeching to find some outlet for her crushing sense of inadequacy.

Who would that help, though? Not her and most certainly not Lucy. Forging ahead was her only course of action, except she had no idea how to. Her steps timid, she made her way she went to Lucy's door to knock when something caught her eye and she stopped.

Anamaria was truly a gifted photographer. Elizabeth had seen enough evidence of that over her time with the woman, her work decorating both Will's house and hers, in addition to various spots of the walls at Dulzura. The photo she was staring at now had long been her favorite since the day she had arrived. Like so many around the house, it was of Will and Lucy together. By the looks of it, Lucy was only a few months old. They were both asleep on a sofa somewhere, Lucy on her stomach against Will's chest, a touch of a smile ghosting his scruffy face. It was easy to understand why she loved it so much: Lucy was a breathtakingly gorgeous baby and the sight of Will – nurturing and serene – sent a stronger spike of desire through her faster than any of Elizabeth's shirtless imaginings of him ever could.

Yet it wasn't until this very moment that it struck why that one picture captured her more than the others. Somewhere across the ocean, in Father's study on his desk at the country house, there was a picture remarkably to the one she was looking at now, only the people inside the frame where herself and her mother. Father always said her mother had been happiest holding her and that's what he wanted to see every day, his late wife happy.

A rush of shame washed over her as she realized how little she had thought of her mother lately, outside of those first few harrowing days of her pregnancy. The medallion she always wore felt heavier now. What would her late mother have thought of all this, the pregnancy and the current living situation Elizabeth had chosen? Would she be like Father, difficult and ignorant, or would she have adopted a more diplomatic approach? What would she have said when she heard the news? What would she do if she had…?

Inspiration hit like a bolt of lightning. What would Mum have done now? That one was easy.

"Lucy?" Elizabeth asked softly as she knocked. "I could use your help in the kitchen."

There was a long pause. Elizabeth waited, holding the chain of her necklace loosely, until she heard, "With what?"

"I feel like making some biscuits. Would you like to help me?"

Another pause, this one shorter. "What kind of biscuits?"

Elizabeth smiled in relief. "I'm not really sure. Maybe…Maybe we could come up with a new flavor together. Would you like that?"

Bit by bit, the door opened until Lucy emerged, holding her bear to her. "Can Felix help too?"

"Hmm…" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes teasingly. "Alright. But if he causes any trouble, I'm making him drink a broccoli and tuna fish milkshake."

Lucy scrunched her nose, smiling tentatively and cuddling into Elizabeth's side. "With clotted cream on top?"

"Two heaping spoonful's," Elizabeth promised, leading them into the kitchen, her hold on Lucy's shoulder never wavering.

* * *

"You're late," Jack told Will needlessly as Will burst into the hotel lobby, still trying to put on his one blazer.

"You're an unhelpful prick," Will threw out. For once, his oldest friend was dressed fittingly for the environment and it threw Will off even more than he already was. He followed Jack into the dining room of Panas, the Strathwood's only restaurant. The opposite of Tortuga in every way, it was immaculate and chic, perfect for the patrons of the hotel. Will remembered clearly the money rolls carried by most of the men who dined here, having waited on them in his youth, all the while knowing he'd have to work at least a month to afford a meal here on his own. He never felt like he had belonged in here, even back then, but now he felt it all the more as he prepared to meet with a man who Will knew for certain had a money roll that would probably put all others to shame.

With Jack steering him through the cavernous room, it was easy to spot the enigmatic DeMarcus already nestled into a private booth in the back. Middle-aged with black and grey hair that curled slightly over his forehead, he looked more appropriate for a leisurely sail on one of Jack's boats with no jacket and the first few buttons on his shirt left opened then he did sitting in a four-star restaurant. Will immediately tensed up, seeing up close the coolness Jack had warned him of, and understood at once that this was what DeMarcus wanted: total control of the situation and the environment, as a man of his stature and reputation had whenever he wanted it.

They arrived before Will had a chance to get his nerves under control. "Hank DeMarcus, William Turner," Jack said in introduction. The other man didn't rise when Will shook his hand and they all sat down, something Will was grateful for as his legs were about to give out.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Will managed to say, keeping a grip atop the portfolio he had worked with Jack over the last couple of weeks to put together. Inside was his (fairly scant) resume in addition to photos of restoration projects Will had worked on over the years, some with Jack for leisure and some from years ago when he had been a teenager, eager for nothing more than to spend his days bringing ships back to life and preserving a history he had always secretly longed to be a part of.

But that was a lifetime ago, when it was all just for sport. Before Lucy. Before Elizabeth. Before the heartbeat he had heard today for the first time that still pounded in his ears over the sound of his own.

Now it was a game he had to win.

DeMarcus ran his stoic dark eyes over Will's form, reading every inch of him and Will fought to keep his eyes level with the man. "Glad you could finally find time in your busy schedule for me, Mr. Turner," he finally said passively, his accent surprisingly familiar: Australian, exactly like Rebecca's had been.

"Couldn't be helped. He's a workin' stiff and a slave to the whims of bills and repairs that care not for such lucrative opportunities as the one we're here to discuss," Jack said without missing a beat. He turned to look for a waiter. "Perhaps we should partake in-"

"Actually, Jack, why don't you leave me and Mr. Turner here to discuss this lucrative opportunity amongst ourselves?" Will forced himself to keep his breathing even as the man opposite him leaned back into the booth, taking a sip of brandy. "In my experience, two people alone together for an hour can get more accomplished than the wholes of most governments can in a year."

To his credit, Jack attempted to dissuade his associate. "Frankly, Hank, I was hopin' to enjoy some of the delicious-"

"If he needs you by his side for interference, I'll end this little meeting right here and now. I've got much better things to do with a wife who has much more appealing parts than either of you gentlemen." Eyebrow raised in challenge, he regarded Will once more. "Well, Mr. Turner? Do you need Jack here to hold your hand?"

At the mention of hand holding, Will flashed back to earlier at Corrine's and of Elizabeth's soft hand in his as she gazed adoringly at their child, speaking words of love to the baby that couldn't hear them yet. The memory of it, of how perfect that one moment had been, filled him with a poise he hadn't imagined he'd be able to feel in the presence of such a wealthy man. Even if she didn't know he was here right now, she needed him to land this job.

He wouldn't fail her.

"Thanks for setting this up, Jack," Will told his friend. "I'll ring you later, let you know how it went."

"You sure, mate?"

"Yeah." He met the gaze of his potential benefactor head-on. "I've got this."

With a quick nod to the pair, Jack took his leave, leaving the other two men engaged in a standoff. Whoever blinked first was the loser and there wasn't anything that would make Will look away.

"Strange fellow, that Sparrow is," Hank said after a moment, signaling the waiter for another drink. "What would you like?"

"Nothing, I'm fine. Thank you, though, Mr. DeMarcus."

"It's just Hank. If I had had a daddy, he would have been Mr. DeMarcus." The second brandy was promptly delivered and Hank swirled it in the glass. "Jack tells me that's how you ended up in his life, searching for your father after your mother died."

Will's skin prickled uncomfortably at a stranger knowing such things about him. "Uh, yeah. I suppose." Trying to redirect the conversation, he opened his portfolio. "So, I've put together some of my work to give you an idea of-"

"Mr. Turner, why do you think we're in this establishment right now as opposed to a shipyard or even the waterfront?"

That gave Will pause. He had been wondering that since they had set this meeting three days ago. "I'm not sure. You tell me."

"I've come to this island because I've made my fortune – and the fortunes of many, many others – and it is now time for me to put my own pleasures ahead of my businesses."

Will couldn't help his small snort. "Due respect, I imagine a man as wealthy as Jack claims you are wouldn't have any trouble indulging in any pleasure he wanted."

Hank took a long sip without replying, his eyes betraying nothing. Will started dying a little inside.

 _You are a fucking moron!_ Will berated himself, his palms beginning to sweat. _You blew this thing inside of five minutes! What were you thinking?!_

Finally, a small smirk emerged at the corner of Hank's mouth and Will's heart attack was averted for the time being. "Perhaps you're right. But none of my businesses themselves brought me any pleasure. I went from working in a mailroom and scratching my way through night school to trading stocks, then on to investing in technology, real estate, pharmaceuticals, weapons development…basically, I've helped to both save and destroy the world a few thousand times over. Now that I've grown bored with capitalism, I've come to the Caribbean. You have a lot of something I love dearly down here."

"Ships," Will answered for him.

"Aye, ships." Hank smiled fully at him for the first time, relaxing Will as they met on a common ground. "Ever since I was boy, visiting the penthouses my mother cleaned nearly every day of her adult life, I'd stare out into Sydney Harbor and see the most magnificent crafts passing through, all the while knowing I both belonged on them and couldn't have them. Even as young as four, I knew what my class was. I contented myself with model ships and nautical history, biding my time until I could put myself above any station I wanted to, which I have. I've owned or leased every conceivable luxury sailing vessel money can buy, but none of those love affairs ever lasted. Do you know why? Because they were boats, not ships."

"What's the difference?"

"A boat takes you someplace. There's amenities, if you're lucky, and some degree of comfort. A ship, though, Mr. Turner, a ship is something glorious," Hank said, the timbre of his voice displaying the reverence he placed on the subject. "A ship is something men built with their hands decades or hundreds of years ago and put their blood, sweat, and heartache into. A ship traveled the world when the borders were still undefined and mysterious. A ship carries with her the hopes and dreams of every passenger or crewmen that sailed on her. A ship is-"

"Freedom," Will finished, his tone matching Hank's. "It's freedom, pure and simple, untamed and messy when it strikes the fancy of the sea. You can go where you want, be whomever you to be, with no rules or restrictions tying you down. It's a dream for some people."

"Is it yours?"

Will didn't have to think about his reply. "It was. Until I had better dreams."

Hank nodded slowly and Will hoped with everything he had that the shift he could see in Hank's eyes was one of respect. "I want to establish a company in Arbor Bay that will restore ships," he explained. "Not just the more modern ones for the local businesses but larger projects as well; film and television use, museums, private ownership, things like that. I want it to be the premier operation in the Caribbean."

"Yes, that's what Jack was saying. I've brought with me-"

"You can put that fancy portfolio you've brought with you away. We won't be looking at it." Will frowned. Was all this a gambit or a prank to play on Jack over a long-forgotten offense? "Jack Sparrow, from my experience, is a man who doesn't take anything seriously except for making money. He's never pointed me in the wrong direction when I've asked his advice on matters of business. When I brought up this venture with him, yours was the first and only name that came up."

Will flustered slightly. "Well, he's always been supportive. In his way, he's been more my family then-"

"Which is exactly why you weren't sent a contract to sign already and why we're meeting now face-to-face for a chat. I don't mix business with personal. Not since the secretary who became my second most expensive divorce. Jack was the first local I went to about this idea, but he wasn't the only one. Others I spoke to had concerns about you when asked; some from past jobs while others more just had…stories."

 _Stories_. _Right then. Polite way of saying that he knows I was a bit of stoner who liked to pick fights when someone got in my face._

Will wasn't particularly comfortable with his past. He had been an angry teenager a lot of the time, thanks to lingering wounds from a traumatic childhood and an unhealthy lack of supervision from Jack. When he could focus on school or work on the docks, he was the most agreeable chap you could come across. If he was provoked, on the other hand, by a stray comment from someone who knew Bootstrap or in a strop over another three-hour fight with Rebecca, all bets were off. There had been more than a few brawls that had left him bloodied and in police custody and one horrible incident when he had to stand before a judge, praying for mercy instead of a jail sentence just after his seventeenth birthday. He had gotten himself right by the time Lucy was born, unwilling to let his daughter ever know one second of fear from him, but the memories of many in this town were hard to erase. It was one of the reasons why before Hank DeMarcus had wandered his way that Will had never been able to land a local job with any reputable repair shops or dock crews or gotten a chance at a small restoration project before now.

"You want to make sure I'm trustworthy with something you're investing time and money in."

"Partly," Hank capitulated. "Truthfully, this business won't make me any richer than I already am. It'll be fun for me, a point of pride I can brag about to other masters of the universe, but odds are after a couple of years I'll get bored and want to move on to the next thing. It's what I do, even with things and people I love. When that happens, I'll probably sell it to the person I've hired to run it, at a fair market value of course. For someone in these parts, that would be lifechanging. I'd like to make sure you're worthy of such a chance, Mr. Turner."

A test of character then. Why didn't he just ask for the moon to be lassoed or the ocean to be parted, something far simpler and easier for him to pass?

 _Best get this over with then. You've got a healthy amount of self-flogging to do before you head home._

"You can call me Will," he said, trying to hide his unease. "What would you like to know?"

"Well then, Will, where does the honorable Mr. Brown think you are right now?"

"If he's capable of thinking at all at this hour, he probably believes I'm sitting at home, lamenting that swing I tried to take at him a year ago."

"So, you don't regret almost knocking an old man, your boss, on his ass?"

"Not after what he called my **actual** boss, I don't."

"Which was?"

"A term for African-Americans that should have been forgotten long ago. Samuel, the man who runs the business that supports Brown's drinking habits, let me take a half-day. My first in almost three years," he added. "I'm not afraid of hard work."

Hank nodded. "I'd think you wouldn't have a choice, becoming a father at such a young age."

"I'd agree."

"Some might say you were too young."

"Tell me who those people are that think my daughter shouldn't have been born. There's words I'd like to have with them."

"Not what I meant by it. Most men – myself included – would have run very far away at a very fast speed when presented with that situation. Why didn't you?"

Will shrugged and gave the only answer he could. "Because she was mine. Like you said, I grew up searching for a father I never ended up finding. She wasn't going to go through that. The second I knew about her, about Lucy, there wasn't anywhere else or anyone else I could be. It's not something you can really understand unless you have children of your own."

"Probably a good thing I don't then. But seriously, at only nineteen, you never had any doubts? You never thought about giving her up?"

"No," Will said at once, years of careful practice and internal denial making the lie seem real. So real that the memory of that awful day sitting in the lawyer's office in Kingston, Lucy asleep in her carrier beside him, almost seemed like a hazy dream at this point.

Almost.

He gave himself a strong mental shake to bring him back to the here and now when Hank started speaking again. "What about the mother? She's not in the picture?"

"Never really was, even when she was pregnant."

"Jack said you lived together for a time, to keep her off heroin." Will nodded the affirmative. "Did you offer to marry her, do right by the situation?" Again, he nodded, although it was slower this time. The proposal hadn't been born of any feelings of love for Rebecca. He wasn't proud of it. "From what Jack said, probably for the best she turned you down. He said your daughter is a wonderful little girl, all thanks to you."

"There's always been help," Will deflected. He never would have made it entirely on his own. "Jack and Anamaria where with me from the beginning, along with other friends that always pitched in to sit with her while I worked or helped out at her birthday and holidays." He smiled a little. "She's…She's brought the best out of a lot of people that others wouldn't have given a chance to. She's the greatest thing that ever happened to my life."

Hank gave him his own smile. "Tied for that privilege now, wouldn't you say?" At Will's questioning look, he elaborated, "You've got another one coming, correct?"

"Jack was thorough," Will quipped. "Yes, that's true. I, uh, saw the first scan today actually right before I came here. And before you ask, yes the baby's mother is staying with me and my daughter at our home."

"You're a fan of sequels then, I take it?"

Will felt himself begin to glower at the insinuation. "Elizabeth's different. The baby doesn't need protecting from her. She's a good person and she'll be a fantastic mother. She's the one that turned her life upside down to come here, all for-"

"You?" Hank asked knowingly.

"For my help with the baby, yes," Will answered diplomatically, his neck heating underneath his collar. It heated even further when he remembered how upset she been with him when they left the appointment earlier.

He hadn't meant to lie to her. Frankly, he still wasn't convinced that he had. All the phone calls and little meetings with Jack had been about landing this job that Hank was dangling in front of him. He only hadn't wanted to burden her with worries over his own employment when she was still adjusting to a new job, but she had noticed nonetheless. He made her believe he was pulling away when he was trying to attain more for her and his children. In trying to better their situation, he had disappointed her.

He had failed her.

 _She gave up everything for you and you can't even bother to have a bloody conversation with her about a future that affects her as much it does you?_

Seems the self-flogging would begin before the car ride home.

"Will?" He hadn't realized how far away he was until Hank addressed him. "Have a fun trip?"

"Sorry," he said, running a hand across his face. "I'm sorry, truly. It's, uh, been a long day."

"No worries." He drained the last of his glass and pulled out a money roll that, just as Will suspected, was enormous. He'd have to work three months straight to hold that much cash in his hand. Hank laid several bills on the table and stood. "We're all done here."

Will joined him, his knees shaking ever so slightly. "We are?"

"Yup. Nothing left to discuss."

"Right," Will said, not even trying to hold back his sigh as he reached to shake hands with Hank. It wouldn't do Jack any good for him to lash out screaming about the man's invasive interviews practices. Best to part on good terms.

Hank took his hand, shaking it and his head in amusement. "Give Samuel your two weeks' notice when you get a chance to. I'll start getting the shipyard I bought ready for you. We'll go over financials tomorrow with Jack. He'll get you a fair deal from me."

"W-What?" Will blinked, trying to force himself to wake up, straining to hear his alarm clock over the white noise speeding through his brain. "Are you…Did I…What just happened?"

"You're a decent, hardworking man who doesn't tolerate bullshit, you're devoted with all your heart to your family, and Sparrow vouches for you." Hank clapped him on the shoulder in farewell. Stunned with every fiber of his being, he couldn't respond. "We're going to do good things together, Will."

So great was his shock and awe over conquering such an insurmountable goal that it could have been minutes or hours or even days that he stood there in the middle of Panas, unmoving and staring into nothing, Hank's words turning over and over in his mind. With nearly every odd stacked against him, the job was his. In the very near future, he'd find himself in a warehouse, studying the ship that his hands and his mind would help bring back to life. It was every boyhood dream come to life.

 _So why the hell does it feel so empty?_

Will felt Elizabeth's eyes on him as surely as if she were standing in front of him, filled with the same twinges of sadness from earlier, and he knew then where he needed to be.

He wasn't sure how, but he eventually found himself in his car heading back to the house, the Friday evening traffic downtown slowing the trip enough that the sun was starting to set as he pulled in next to Elizabeth's jeep. The quiet that greeted him inside only unsettled him further until he glanced out to the deck and saw Elizabeth sitting at the foot of the stairs, legs splayed out in front of her as she watched Lucy playing in the sand, affording himself the luxury of viewing Elizabeth unobserved.

It still staggered him sometimes, even after living together all these weeks, how lovely she was without even trying. Sitting there, with the wind quietly blowing her loose hair and the last rays of orange lighting her skin just so, she put women who graced billboards to shame. Usually, pangs of lust followed those musings. However today, after seeing their baby growing and moving, he could only think of their daughter; of what it would be like to see Elizabeth holding a miniature version of herself in her arms. He wasn't certain, but he had the distinct notion that such a sight would bring him right to his knees.

 _Spending my days catering to the needs of three beautiful ladies…I suppose there are worse fates in the world._

Almost as if she heard him, Elizabeth looked over her shoulder, catching him staring. After a beat, she gifted him with a small smile. Relief spread through him as he joined her on the steps, peeling off his jacket as he did.

"What is she building?" he asked, nodding towards Lucy and the three misshapen blobs of sand she was carefully scratching something onto with a piece of driftwood.

"She claims they're Christmas trees. I doubted her and was banished here." In the silence that followed, he tried to figure out how to maneuver the conversation to an apology when she said, "Congratulations on the job."

He blinked at her seemingly psychic abilities. "How did you-?"

"Jack came by, told us all about it when we were eating dinner. Your new boss called him and he wanted to take you out for drinks to celebrate. When you weren't here, he went out to celebrate by himself."

"Ah."

"I have no idea how you survived being raised by that man."

"We sort of raised each other, I guess. Do you know he had never even owned a set of sheets until I moved in?"

Elizabeth shivered in disgust even as she laughed. "God, I can just picture that poor mattress."

"Believe me, you don't want to," he replied, grinning. There was quiet again as their laughter faded until he finally found the courage to speak again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about any of it. I just didn't…"

"What?"

It took him awhile to respond. "I'm used to doing it all on my own. It's only been me and Lucy for so long that I got used to making all the decisions. This job is going to mean different hours, probably some travel, and with you just starting at the café, I didn't want to add anything else on you that you might not have been-"

"I'm not Rebecca, Will." Her tone was soft, almost inaudible, but her words hit him like a whiplash. Elizabeth was Rebecca's polar opposite in every way. Anyone could see that, most especially him. "I don't need to be handled or guarded or watched over. You can't keep things from me because you think I'm going to run away scared. You don't need to protect me from anything." Her eyes shifted back to Lucy, playing obliviously with her imaginary trees. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I know that," he whispered to her, hoping for the second time that day that his lie was believable.

He needed her to believe him. He needed her and their baby to stay with him.

He just couldn't understand why she would.

Because why should she stay? For sure, all her actions and words had been spot-on until now, but in almost every conversation he could feel the guillotine hovering over his neck. She'd see soon enough that he wasn't capable of giving her the life she wanted, the one she deserved. True, he could win all the games he wanted with the likes of the Hank DeMarcus' of the world, but he couldn't change who he was deep down: nothing more than the son of a poor seamstress and an alcoholic sailor that had happened to stumble his way to a wonderful little girl and to her, Elizabeth. If he was any kind of man, he would have let her go a long time ago; he would have never tried to keep her to begin with. Something inside his soul clung to her, though, refusing to let her and their baby go back to the world to which he knew they both belonged, refusing for the first time in almost six years to be selfless.

"She had a bad day at school today," Elizabeth told him eventually as he sat next to her in contemplation.

His pity went to the back of the line at that. "What happened?"

Bringing her knees up to her chest, she sighed. "I'm not sure. She wouldn't tell me, but she looked just…wrecked when I got her."

"Before you got here, she was having trouble with a girl in her class. Remember the pier, when I got that phone call? It was about that. The kid was saying awful things to her and Lucy tried to wallop her on the playground."

"What was the girl saying?"

"No idea. Lucy wouldn't tell me and you can't…you can't force it out of her. She'll just clam up even more. There haven't been any more incidents so I hoped she had gotten past it. I'll talk to her teacher Monday when I drop her."

"Good. You should have seen her little face, it was awful. I wanted to go back and burn the bloody building down."

"Because seeing you be arrested for arson would make everything all better."

She elbowed him in his side. "It isn't funny. I had no idea what to do for her. I thought if we baked some biscuits together it would help, get her to relax a little maybe and open up to me. All she would talk about is the festival coming up. I didn't help her at all."

"Of course, you did."

"I told you, she didn't tell me anything important: not a name, not what someone called her or told her. Nothing."

"Maybe, but look at her now." He waited until she was examining Lucy closely before he continued, "She's not crying. She's not buried under a blanket alone with a book, ignoring you. She's making abstract Christmas trees and smiling. You didn't solve it for her, but you helped her forget about whatever's bothering her for long enough that she remembered it's more fun to be herself than worry about what another kid might say to her. Trust me, Elizabeth, that's not nothing."

His little pep talk seemed to work as she nodded, blushing a bit at his praise before she frowned again. "I'm never going to be as good at this as you are, parenting that is."

"Well, not that I think I'm all that great at it most of the time, but I've got a bit of head start on you. In time, you'll catch up and until then, I'll be happy to give you some spoilers."

"Ok." She looked on him expectantly when he didn't answer right away. "Well, go on then. Enlighten me."

"Um…" He thought over the past six years, of what he wished someone could have told him at the beginning. "Alright, here's the big one, the hardest one: the world isn't going to bend for them. Not matter how precious they are to you, there's always going to be obstacles you can't break past and most of the time, the biggest obstacles are them." He nodded towards Lucy. "She could have made it easy on herself and you today. She could have laid it all bare for you or me to fix, but…she's fighting to get it done on her own terms. She's determined to keep it all inside, no matter what it does to herself or anyone else."

Elizabeth's eyebrow arched at that remark. "I wonder where on Earth she gets that from?"

He was saved from responding as the object of their conversation ran up and climbed right into his lap for a snuggle. "Hi Daddy," Lucy told him, tucking her head underneath his chin. "Guess what Elizabeth and I did?"

"What?"

"We made a new kind of biscuit: oatmeal, peanut butter, and raspberry jelly. They're yummy!"

"Did you leave me any?"

"Some. You have to eat your dinner first, though. That's the rule."

Granules of wet sand were getting all over the slacks he had carefully pressed and worn for his interview, and would soon make a mess of the washing machine. He pulled Lucy in tighter, kissing her temple. "Deal."

"Hey." Elizabeth lightly tickled Lucy's bare foot to get her attention. "What did we say we were going to tell your father when he got home?"

"Oh! I forgot! Congratulations Daddy!" She wrapped her arms around his neck, getting sand down the back of his shirt and all he could do was laugh.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

"Captain Jack said you're going to make broken ships all better. Can I help?"

"Maybe." He pulled back to catch her eye. "Do you want to talk about what happened at school?"

She shook her head instantly, as he had, unfortunately, known she would do. "Nothing bad happened. I just forget to remember to ignore stupid things some kids said to me."

"Hey, 'stupid' isn't a good word to use."

"Captain Jack says it all the time."

"Which is all the reason you need not to use it," Elizabeth told her with a smile.

"Ok, I won't," Lucy told her, moving in even closer to Will, making him filthier and not caring at all in her desire to be held by him as Elizabeth looked on at both them with tenderness. Without warning, Will couldn't keep the words inside any longer.

"Say Lucy? Do you want to know a secret?"

"About what?"

"About why Elizabeth came to live here in Arbor Bay." His eyes met her startled ones, begging for permission to continue. They hadn't discussed how to tell Lucy about the pregnancy, only that they would when Elizabeth was safely in her second trimester. There's was something about this sunset they were sharing that told Will this was that time. Slowly, she nodded and he continued, "She came here because she's having a baby."

Lucy's head shot up at that, her expression pure indignation. "No, you're not! You're not fat!"

Elizabeth positively guffawed at that while Will closed his eyes, groaning. "Lucy, that's…that's not something you blurt out like that."

"But it's true! She isn't! How does her belly have room for a baby if it isn't big?"

"Because," Elizabeth said as she regained control of herself, "the baby is very small right now." Scooting closer, she took Lucy's hand and traced her palm. "It's only about that big, but it's growing every single day until it's ready to come out." Lucy still didn't look convinced, glancing between her hand and Elizabeth's stomach. Reaching into her pocket, Elizabeth pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Lucy. "I had that picture taken before I got you from school. That's inside my belly and that," she pointed to the rounded center, "is the baby. Can you see it's little hand near its face?"

"Uh-huh," Lucy replied after a time, biting her lip in concentration. "But I don't understand. Why did you have to move here to have a baby? Don't people have babies in London?"

As nervous as he had been during his interview, it didn't hold a candle to how he felt now. "They do. You see, Elizabeth came here to have her baby because…it's mine too. I'm it's dad, like I'm your dad." He joined her in holding the picture. "That means that this is your brother or sister."

"It is?" Will nodded and gave her time to process this information. She pulled the picture up almost to her nose, squinting as if to make sense or to see into the future. "What's its name?"

"Um…we don't know yet. We don't even know if it's a boy or a girl."

"I think it should be a boy," she declared, handing the picture back to a bemused Elizabeth.

"Why is that?"

"Then I don't have to share my toys," she said matter-of-factly, earning another loud laugh from Elizabeth.

"Well," he shifted her in his lap until she was facing him, "what if it's another little girl who is just as wonderful as you are? I don't think it would be that terrible, do you?"

"No," she admitted quietly, playing with the button on his collar, "I guess not…"

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"Would you…you wouldn't love her more than me, would you?"

Cupping her face in between his hands, he waited until he had her full attention before he said, "I have loved you from the moment I knew you were coming and it's the exact same for this baby too. Neither of you will ever be loved more or less than the other. Things are going to change when the baby comes, no doubt, but I promise what won't is that you will always be right in the center of my heart. Got it?"

"Got it." Smiling, she kissed his cheek as she clambered off him to go inside.

"What are you doing?"

"Telling Felix! We need to find good hiding spots for my toys because I'm really not sharing!"

He was ready to haul off and lecture her about good manners when he caught Elizabeth staring reflectively out at the water again. "What is it? Did I…Should I not have told her just yet? I didn't mean to-"

"You were so wrong before."

"W-When?"

She scoffed, shaking her head as she said, "You are an amazing parent and there is no way that I am ever catching up to you, William Turner."

Whatever arguments he was about to make vanished as she leaned over and kissed his cheek on the same spot his daughter just had a moment ago. When he finally opened his eyes, she was already walking into the house, leaving him alone, his hand against his chest trying to keep the current of heat her touch ignited from spreading through the rest of his body.

Did she feel it too?

It couldn't all be just him, could it?


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Despite setbacks like RL and a massive document loss, I was determined to get this out before October. Since that's still a day away, I declare victory. We're going to be picking up momentum in the next couple of chapters so I'll try to be a bit quicker with updates, but no promises. Please leave a review if you think its worthwhile and I apologize for any errors. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Oi! Sally!" Elizabeth turned away from the stove, snapping her fingers at the waitress. "Wait a tick, that just needs a little more love." Grabbing a shifter, she dusted powdered sugar over a large carrot cake going out to the display case and sent Sally on her way, turning back to her chocolate ganache and her boss. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I know you're wild about it," Anamaria began, flipping through the festival menu notes Elizabeth had given her that morning, "but I'm really not sure about lemon cupcakes with lavender frosting. That's a little out there, even for me, and I share a bathroom with Jack."

"It's divine," Elizabeth promised, stirring the chocolate with one hand and tasting a sample of the mango compote with the other. "It's not going to taste like a potpourri bowl. It's very subtle and it brings out the flavor in the lemon. Trust me."

"See, I want to trust you about flavor combinations because you're a baking goddess and I am not," Elizabeth grinned at her compliment, "except the other night I watched you put a ginormous hunk of peanut butter on a hamburger before you ate the thing. Ugh!"

"It was barely a spoonful and it was good!" Elizabeth protested. She tapped another member of the staff to take over for her and went to check the dough that had been proofing. Satisfied, she took it to the prep table and began kneading it. "So delicious as will be the cupcakes, I promise. We'll sell out by nine in the morning."

"Alright, you're the goddess," Anamaria agreed, signing off on the menu and perching herself on a stool with a cup of coffee. "Did you get to see Will before you left the house?" Elizabeth reddened, working her frustrations out into the dough as she remembered what had happened this morning. "What is it?" Anamaria's asked, her dark eyes widening during the accompanying silence. "Oh my God! You two didn't actually…?"

"What?" Elizabeth asked innocently.

Anamaria smirked and hopped over to her. She bent over the prep table, sticking her rear out while rocking back and forth. In a stage whisper, she moaned, "Yes, yes, oh yes!"

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!" Elizabeth flung a pinch of flour at her, checking to make sure no one else in the kitchen was paying attention to the pair of them. "What is wrong with you?!"

"Many things," Anamaria said, laughing and dusting herself off while going back to her seat. "You just make it easy."

Elizabeth struggled to compose herself as a combination of memories and fantasies – all starring Will – took centerstage, turning back to her dough rather than look at her friend. "Why would I…I mean, why would we…why would we ever do **that**?" When Anamaria started to open her mouth, Elizabeth immediately cut her off. "This morning! Why would we do that this morning right before he starts a new job, a job he's been dreaming about since he was a boy?!"

"Great way to work off tension?"

"I wouldn't know." Taking a rolling pin, she worked the poor dough to the point of abuse, channeling the ever-growing carnal urges she had been fighting for weeks into her work. "Besides, even if…if I was interested in…" Anamaria waggled both eyebrows, which earned another flick of flour in her direction, " **that** right now, it wouldn't matter because he certainly wouldn't want any of…this" She meant to gesture around her entire body, but her hand never went past her midsection.

Officially and unequivocally, Elizabeth Swann was noticeably pregnant. There was no hiding the still-miniscule bump that had sprouted to the point where any bottoms with buttons were now out of the question. Peasant skirts with billowing tops (like the outfit she was currently wearing) and sundresses were becoming her signatures and in the back of her mind, she knew that the time for maternity shopping had come and gone. As soon as she did that, though, the floodgates would open and everyone in this small community that Will had made his home would know the truth, if they didn't already. Without being obviously pregnant, whatever gossip or snide comments had been made about them had been murmured behind their backs; with Elizabeth flashing her growing stomach around, however, everything would be out in the open. She didn't care for her own reputation. There was nothing shameful about this baby and she'd dare anyone to try to tell her that. But this would be the second time that Will would be hearing those things about himself and as much as she knew he'd be angry at her for worrying over something seemingly trivial, she wanted to protect him for as long as she could.

Of course, that wasn't all she wanted when it came to Will Turner. Forming the dough into loaves, she couldn't help but imagine that she was running her hands across the hard planes of his abs or gripping his muscular shoulder, digging her nails into his skin as he –

 _Tried as hard as he could to keep his eyes closed so he wouldn't have to look at what Shelf has done to your body?_

Despite the mental cold shower she had just forced herself to take, she still smiled slightly at the nickname she had given the baby. Lying on her back at night, she had – in moments when her thoughts collided with each other at rapid speeds – taken to balancing objects on her stomach to amuse herself. Thus, until the baby had an official name, he or she was Shelf, a name that was both gender-neutral and less absurd than some she had heard out and about in London.

"Well," Anamaria said, drawing her back in, "putting aside the fact that you look amazing," she held her finger up to forestall Elizabeth's interruption, "why did you get all quiet when I asked you about seeing Will this morning?"

Elizabeth murmured something quietly as she sprinkled some of the loaves with sesame seeds and others with oats. When Anamaria pressed her with a knowing look, she finally admitted, "I broke his phone before I left."

"What? How?"

"I was…I was trying to be helpful. There was basket of his clothes by the washer so I threw them in for him and went to make him a bit of breakfast. Hearing the washer wakes him up, he goes to check it, and nearly slams the door off the hinge when he finds his phone in there. I didn't know he had left it in his pocket."

"Oh honey…"

"Now his whole day is ruined, he's got to find time to get a new phone, he has to remain completely calm and professional all day to impress this bigwig boss of his, and…and he didn't even raise his voice to me, even though it was all my fault."

"Maybe because he knew it was an accident?"

She set the loaves aside to proof once more and took a long sip of water. "I'm twenty-four years old and I still need to be told to check pockets before I put a load of laundry on. He should have ripped my head clean off my body."

"I wouldn't hold my breath waiting. He doesn't fly off the handle like that anymore."

"But he used to?" Elizabeth asked, fishing for a peek into Will's past, a subject he never brought up unless prompted. "Have a temper, I mean?"

"I wouldn't say that. It just used to be easy for people to get under his skin. Now he knows that there's more important things than letting an asshole have power over you." She gathered up the notes to head back out. "Jack's the only one who he can still go twelve rounds with because he's, you know, Jack."

Elizabeth put her water back in the fridge, smiling. "Too true."

"And of course, there's the whole thing with Bo-"

"Hmm?" Elizabeth asked, standing in front of the open door for a bit of a cool off. "What were you saying?"

"Nothing," Anamaria said simply. "Listen, I know it's your day off tomorrow, but can we meet to go over the final prep for the festival? We've only got two weeks and I want to actually be ready for it this year, especially with you being a newbie."

"Sure, no problem. I just have to be out to get Lucy."

"We'll have lunch. My treat." Anamaria waved her hand and called out, " _Adios_!"

Elizabeth said goodbye, shutting the door to get back to work, when she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the stainless steel. Turning in profile, she ran a hand along the tiny curve and smiled to herself.

 _I'm not crazy about what you're doing to my figure, Shelf, but you are just too adorable to be mad at._

The smile stayed on her face the rest of her workday. Despite her stumble with Will this morning, despite the swirl of maddening attraction she felt almost any time she was in his presence, she was happy. Everything in her life – her job, her friends, her home, and most especially, her approaching motherhood – had finally fallen into a place where she felt peace. For the first time, she was in complete control of her future.

Or she was, until she pulled up to Lucy's school and saw the pensive look on the girl's face that had grown all too familiar as of late.

Sighing, Elizabeth stooped to hug her. They stayed like that for a time, ignoring the stares of the other children and their parents, even a particularly nasty one from the mother of a girl in Lucy's class, the one who owned a trendy boutique a few shops down from Dulzura. What wasn't ignored was the comment the woman made as she and her daughter haughtily passed them by. Under her breath, Elizabeth heard her mutter, "Pathetic. Turner's little T.O.L., trying to mind the offspring."

Before Elizabeth could fathom what the woman meant, Lucy pulled back and gave her a small smile. "Hi."

"Bad day?" Lucy nodded. "Do you want to go home and make something special?" Another nod, this one more earnest. "Well, let's go then."

Driving home, Elizabeth struggled to keep the conversation light as she resolved to go through with her plan, despite her uncertainty. Will was her father. He knew her best and he said time and again that pushing Lucy would only strengthen her resolve to stay silent. There had been a meeting between himself, Lucy, and her teacher that had yielded no new information. Lucy wouldn't open up to any of them. Because there was no threat of physical danger, unless she could name the person or situation that was causing her such inner turmoil, there was nothing any of them could do. As much as Elizabeth could see it pained him, Will was determined to let Lucy come to them when she was ready, to let her see that he trusted her enough to know when she had taken all she could handle. It was admirable, no doubt, but he wasn't the one who had to pick her up from school when she wore the trials of her day for Elizabeth alone to see. By the time he came home, after hours of love and play (and usually a fair amount of baking), Lucy was always happier. He didn't see her the way Elizabeth saw her now. If he did, perhaps he'd agree that a bit of coaxing was in order to help Lucy through her troubles.

Frankly, she didn't care what he agreed with right now. Elizabeth simply couldn't take one more day of seeing Lucy in such distress.

At home and changed, Elizabeth took what she hoped would be the tool to a breakthrough out of her closet and went to the kitchen, smiling when she saw Lucy pulling mixing bowls out of the floor cabinets. Keeping her surprise behind her back, she snuck up on Lucy and tickled her. "Starting without me?"

"No. Just getting organized because organization is the…"

"First step towards scrumptiousness. Yes, you learned that one quickly. Why don't you come here for moment first?" Sitting them down at the table, Elizabeth placed a small, worn shoebox in front of them that Lucy eyed curiously. "So, we've been making some basic biscuits and little cakes together and today, I thought we might try something a little fancier."

"Like what?"

Nudging the box open, Elizabeth took out a cookie cutter in the shape of a Christmas tree, biting back her grin at the small cry of amazement from Lucy. "I had my dear friend Bria send these to me. I've collected these since I was a little girl. There's all kinds of different shapes and figures to choose from. We can bake up a batch of shortbread, cut them up with these, and decorate them. Does that sound like fun?" Lucy almost cracked her neck in the eagerness of her nod. It made Elizabeth feel guilty for what was about to come next. "There's just one catch: if…if you want to do that, first you have to tell me what's going on at school that's upsetting you so much."

The bubble burst, Lucy visibly slumped down in the chair. "That's not fair…"

"Maybe not, but Lucy…you're not even six yet. School isn't supposed to make you this miserable. That's what university is for," she tried to joke, but Lucy kept her eyes cast down. Elizabeth sighed and tried again. "When I was younger, I…I had to see a kind of doctor once and she told me that when we leave a problem all alone in our head, the only thing it does is get bigger and bigger until it's taking up all the space in our mind. Do you know what she said the trick is?" Lucy shook her head slowly. "The trick is actually to talk about it with someone else. If we do that enough, we share the problem with them so they can take some of it into their mind. Before you know it, the problem is so small in yours, it's not even that scary anymore."

Lucy ruminated on this idea for a long time before she replied, "Is that true?"

"I wouldn't have told you that if it wasn't."

Lucy chewed on her bottom lip as Elizabeth waited anxiously. "Do you…if I tell you, would you have to tell Daddy?"

At this, Elizabeth hesitated. She wanted Lucy to confide in her; wanted it desperately to ease the both of them. But she had also just promised her the truth. "Yes, I'd have to."

"Why?"

"Because he's your father. Whatever troubles you, he wants nothing more than to make it better. He'd want to know this."

"But…But…"

"What?"

"I don't want him to worry about me," she muttered to herself.

"Lucy, what do you-?"

"He's always worried. He's always worried and working and…and he thinks I'm too little to notice, but I do," Lucy continued, barely above a whisper. "I could hear him at night sometimes when he went to work in the shed after I was supposed to be asleep, or whispering with Auntie Ana or Captain Jack about money things, or how tired he looked when he thought I wasn't watching. I was just…"

Elizabeth struggled with every ounce of herself to keep her tears at bay. She pulled a willing Lucy into her arms. "Oh poppet," she murmured soothingly, rocking her gently. In her own misguided way, she was the sweetest child imaginable. "You were only trying to take care of him, weren't you?"

"Uh-huh. That's why I always try to do things by myself, like breakfast and getting dressed, so it's a little easier for him."

"Which is commendable, but very, very silly. Do you know why? Because that's not your job. He's your father and he's supposed to take care of **you** , not the other way around. That's what he signed up for when you were born. And a big part of taking care of you is listening to you and helping you when you have a problem. In trying to make it easier, you've actually made his job harder because he doesn't know how to help you."

"Really?"

"Yes, but we're going to fix that." Setting her down, Elizabeth tweaked her nose. "Because you and I are going to whip up a big batch of shortbread and see what we can do about making this big problem of yours a bit smaller."

It still took time and many gentle prompts from Elizabeth before Lucy finally felt able to give voice to her unhappiness. Their edible trees were baking in the oven and the two of them were preparing decorations to adorn the cookies with when the little girl haltingly admitted what had been happening at school. "They…The other kids think that I-I'm strange and they tease me sometimes. Well, a lot now."

Elizabeth paused the mixer that was whipping up frosting, positive that she had misheard her. "Strange? Why would they-?"

"Because they say I ask too many questions during class," she said in a rush, as if saying it out loud had unlocked a cell door to freedom, "and because I always try to finish lessons early to get a book from the reading corner, and because I like pretending to be a pirate and I **hate** girly dressy things, and because at recess I like to lay down and tell cloud stories in my head, and…and lots of other stuff."

 _In other words, everything that makes her wonderful_ , Elizabeth fumed silently. _I'd like five minutes with those little urchins!_

"It's all the kids in your class that treat you like you're…?" Elizabeth refused to say the word.

"No, not **all** of them," Lucy said, sorting through chocolate candies for the perfect ones. "It's mostly Kayla Miller and her friends, but if anyone tries to tell her she's wrong or not nice, she just…"

"Turns all her meanness onto them," Elizabeth finished knowingly. She let Lucy try a spoonful of frosting before she divided it up into smaller bowls.

"Mmmm…that's good," Lucy said, licking her lips. "How did you know that about Kayla?"

"She's what we call a Queen Bee, a very miniature one. Queen Bees like to have total control over the hive or in this case, you and your classmates. Has she been teasing you all year?"

"More lately. We got into a fight before you moved here. I…I kicked her and tugged her hair when she said...something." The tiniest smile of pride edged up Lucy's cheeks. "I think she was scared of me for a bit, even after Daddy made me apologize."

"Which was, of course, the correct thing to do," Elizabeth said neutrally, even though a large part of her wanted to clap Lucy on the back. Uncorking the food dye, they began creating different colors of frosting. "Fighting is very, very naughty."

"I know. She left me alone after that, but lately…" Lucy sighed a sigh far too heavy for a girl of five. "I don't go near her or try to talk to her, just like Daddy told me, and she still comes up to me and says the foulest things."

"Do you know why?" Lucy shrugged, concentrating on making the perfect shade of purple. "Because she knows that she can bother you. The more upset she makes you, the happier she feels."

Lucy's forehead scrunched in confusion. "Making people upset makes her happy?" Elizabeth nodded, to which Lucy shook her head in bewilderment. "And she says **I'm** the strange one."

 _Ah, there she is. There's that amazing little girl that makes the world take notice._

"Well, first things first, I want to make something perfectly clear." Elizabeth's flour-dusted fingers tilted Lucy's chin up until their eyes met. "You are not strange in any way, shape, or form. There's nothing about you that I would change, from the roots of your hair down to your toenails. All those things you love – learning and your imagination and being a pirate instead of a princess – make you happy and that's good. In fact, seeing you happy lets other people be happy."

"Like who?"

Elizabeth smiled and brushed a bit of yellow frosting on Lucy's cheek, eliciting a startled giggle. "Like me, of course! Not to mention your father, Auntie Ana and Captain Jack, Mr. Gibbs, all the other pirates who love nothing more than to have you beat them at Liar's Dice…your happiness matters very much to a lot of people, young lady."

"I didn't think of it like that."

"Now you will." The oven timer dinged and Elizabeth pulled the cookies out to cool on the counter. "So, here's the plan to deal with the Queen Bee: are there any kids in your class that are nice and that you'd like to play with at recess?"

"Uh-huh. I like Sophie, she's the best at coloring in art by a lot. No crayon marks outside the lines at all! She makes chalk pictures sometimes on the wall."

"That sounds like fun."

"And Garon and Julien play pirates by the jungle gym. I think they'd let me join. They're not gross and silly, like the other boys."

"Good, so we have some excellent candidates. Tomorrow, you're going to try and play with them. When Kayla sees you having fun with other kids, she's going to come up to you and say something really mean to try and make you sad. No matter what she says, ignore her and keep playing with your new friends."

"What if she says something really, really, REALLY foul?" Lucy asked nervously.

"That's when you finally turn to her and you say what I'm about to tell you exactly as I say it. Are you paying attention?" She nodded, slightly wary and chewed her lip. "You tell Miss Miller, 'I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. We're too busy here having loads of fun. Could you repeat that please?' Her jaw will hit the ground."

"It will?" The thought delighted Lucy.

"Maybe not really, but it will show her and everyone else that her being mean to you doesn't bother you anymore and if it doesn't bother you, she has no power over you."

"And she'll leave me alone forever?"

"Should do the trick. Once you show a bully that your world doesn't revolve around how they affect you, their world doesn't revolve around making you miserable."

Lucy nodded in understanding, thinking to herself while Elizabeth filled small piping bags with frosting. "How come Daddy didn't tell me to do this after I fought with Kayla?"

"Because…boys and girls fight differently. Boys tend to have more physical fights and since he's a boy, Daddy probably really thought keeping you away from each other was the right thing to do. But girls tend to know sooner that words can hurt more than punches and kicks. I bet if you had asked Auntie Ana before, she would have told you to do something like I just did."

"Maybe," Lucy shrugged and took one of the bags, watching closely as Elizabeth showed her how to carefully squeeze the frosting out. "What if…What if Kayla says something that makes me want to…?"

"Use your hands and not your words? You go straight to a teacher and then go right back to play. Tempting though it may be, it really is wrong to hit people, poppet."

"What does 'poppet' mean?"

Elizabeth's hands stilled for the briefest seconds before she forced herself to smile and keep decorating their treats.

 _Baking sweets and adorning them with goodies…talking about a day at school…poppet…_

How many times had Elizabeth played this scene before, only in Lucy's part?

"It's just something someone used to call me when I was little," she said quietly. "It's another way of saying 'dear' or 'sweetheart'. I won't call you that if you don't want me to."

"No, I like it." They worked in silence then; Lucy struggling to keep her decorations neat and Elizabeth struggling to keep herself in the moment now, not to travel back two decades ago to an immaculate white bathroom marred by bloodstains on the floor. "Who called you that?"

"My mum," she said, eyes resolutely locked onto the shortbread tree, wishing she had chosen a color other than red for the stripes.

"Is she nice?"

"She was." Elizabeth swallowed. Nearly twenty years later and it still hadn't gotten easier to say. "She d-died a long time ago."

"I'm sorry." The memory of the blood against the skin of her bare feet – so slippery and sticky at the same time – was pulling on her psyche with such force that she almost missed Lucy's next words. "It's sad to not have a mummy. I don't have one either."

It was the unexpected monotony in her tone that brought Elizabeth back to the small kitchen she was in now. "I know," she managed to say.

"Daddy said she was very sick. She had to leave to try and get better to come back to me, but she hasn't yet."

If one has to explain drug addiction to a small child, Elizabeth supposed that was the simplest way. Trying to keep the contempt she felt for the woman who had once endangered Lucy's life out her voice, she said, "I'm sure it was very hard for her to say goodbye to you, but like Daddy said, she was sick. She knew, though, that she was leaving you with a wonderful father that would-"

"Kayla said that wasn't why she left." The flatness was still there as she spoke, yet there was a stark mix of confusion and pain in her eyes. "She said that my mummy could see I…I was strange when I was born and she didn't want me. That's why she's not here."

If she had ever been someone who put faith into occult or voodoo, Elizabeth would have raced to the nearest practitioner and paid any price to make sure a horrendous curse was leveled against Kayla Miller and anyone who shared her blood; specifically, her parents, who had either conditioned or allowed their daughter to turn into such a vile monster, but she couldn't let herself be sidetracked by such thoughts. There was another little girl – one far more important to Elizabeth – that needed her right now.

Gently, she made Lucy set her bag down and sat her down on the chair, kneeling in front of her. "Is that what Kayla told you they day you two fought? Is that why you kicked her?" Lucy nodded, keeping her eyes downcast. "That is absolutely and completely false."

"How do you know?" Lucy asked, almost accusingly. "You weren't here then."

"No, but I -"

"Because sometimes they just leave. There's other kids in my class that only have a mummy or a daddy, not both. Sometimes mummies or daddies just don't want to be mummies or daddies anymore and they leave."

"I know that," Elizabeth said forcefully; too forcefully if the look of surprise on Lucy's face was to be believed. Taking both of Lucy's hands in hers, she squeezed them, trying to make sure hers weren't shaking. "I know that, Lucy, better than most people, but in your case…that isn't what happened. Do you know how I know that? Because your father told you she was sick and there's no way he would ever lie to you about something like that. Do you think he would?"

"No…"

"And Kayla wasn't here either. Why do you think she would know more about your…your mother than your father does?"

Lucy stared at their joint hands and Elizabeth could see the question that had weighed on her heavily for so long before Lucy said it out loud. "But why hasn't she ever come back?"

"That I don't know, poppet. No one does, except for her, and its possible we never will. We don't always get answers, even when we grow up, and that's hard sometimes." That she knew firsthand. How many times had Elizabeth asked her own father similar questions only to be gently rebuffed? How many times had she gone over the night before she found her mother, trying to find the clue of what was to come in the morning? She never wanted Lucy to know such agonies. "I wish so much that you could have had a mummy your whole life, but while you didn't have her you were lucky enough to have a daddy that loves you as big as the sun and the sky."

"Yeah," Lucy said, smiling a little at their hands. Elizabeth's fears diminished exponentially at the sight. "He's pretty okay."

"He's wonderful," Elizabeth corrected in mock outrage. "Absolutely beyond reproach."

"He's the best." Elizabeth nodded in agreement, relieved to finally see the happy glow once more within her, and noticed when Lucy's eyes drifted to her stomach. "You won't…You won't ever leave him, right? My little brother? You'll always be his mummy, no matter what? Because he should get to have both you and Daddy."

 _Goodness, what did I ever do before you came into my life, Lucy Turner?_

"This baby will never be without me or his father, even if he turns out not to be the boy you and I think he is." An idea came to her. "How about while we finish our cookies we start coming up with some potential names for girls, just so we have them ready in case we're surprised?"

"Shouldn't we come up with a boy one, too?"

Elizabeth leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "I already know what his name is if he's a boy." She put her finger to Lucy's lips to silence her excited gasp, barely able to suppress her own grin when she saw the future in her mind's eye: Will and a little boy floating out in the ocean together, both their brown eyes alight as Will lifted him in the air. "Nope, I'm not jinxing it by telling anyone. That's my secret until we get confirmation." Turning back to the trees, they went back to their decorating, both reassured in a way that hadn't felt in a long time. "What do you think of Rose for a name? It's pretty, isn't it?"

"It's alright. What about Artemis? I read about her, she was the Greek goddess of animals."

"That's…That's a name." Needing a way to hide her distaste for the suggestion, Elizabeth went to get the peanut butter to dip a bite of shortbread in. "Let's keep thinking."

* * *

Over the years, the work shed had grown to be Will's haven. The small space was compacted tightly with a bench, shelves, tool cabinets, and whatever projects needed his expertise, but in its confines Will had found a kind of mindless serenity that usually alluded him outside its thin walls. Inside the shed, there was no one to put on a face for; no one that he had to pretend to be stronger and smarter than he really was; no one that needed him at his absolute best. It was the place where his own walls came down and, in some of his darkest hours, where his stifled frustrations where allowed to boil over.

Huffing to catch his breath, Will threw the mallet to the side before he slid to the hard ground, his back screaming and his arm aching with exertion from the punishment he had inflicted on an old car door he had stashed away from a previous job until the moment he needed it.

The moment he had understood how truly like him his daughter was: burying her own pain so far deep into herself that she had nearly choked on it.

Irony loved her cruel little jokes.

He hadn't been let in on the punchline until after Lucy was already in bed. Hank had kept him at the shipyard he was refurbishing and outfitting well into the evening, going over every square inch of the massive space and getting Will's opinion (humble as it was) on what else was needed in terms of equipment. Then there was the matter of staffing the operation. Hank brought in a few engineers he had previous relationships with, as well as a naval architect, Nathaniel Germaine, the only man who wouldn't directly report to Will, but the rest – including carpenters, electricians, welders, etc. – he wanted to hire locally. Their first project, a World War II era cutter being brought in from Florida, would arrive in less than a month and Will spent much of the afternoon trying to get in touch with old acquaintances from the docks, a task made harder by Elizabeth's inadvertent destruction of his phone that morning. The scope of what his job would entail began to hit him for the first time as the sun started to set. Dozens of people (if not more than a hundred) would be under his supervision, all relying on him to make the decisions that would help put food on their tables. The urge to run upstairs to the spacious office Hank had commandeered for himself in the upper levels of the warehouse to hand over a letter of resignation was almost too tempting to resist. When his doubts started shouting loudly and frequently, he had to pull his wallet out to look at pictures of Lucy and her soon-to-be born sibling to remind himself of what this risk could bring to them.

 _Her sister_ , he had told himself then, thumbing the picture of Elizabeth's first scan that she had let him keep, edging up from its place behind Lucy's smiling face. _Definitely going to be a girl. Beautiful like her mother and sweet as her big sister._

Will could only hope his wish came true. After all, Turner men didn't fare well with sons.

Although right now, he wasn't exactly excelling at raising a daughter either.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he picked himself up and went back into the house as quietly as he could. He needn't have bothered; Elizabeth was awake in the darkened living room sitting on the sofa in her pajamas, waiting for him and nursing a mug of something. At his raised eyebrow, she smiled softly. "Decaf tea."

He tried to smile back as he sunk down into the chair opposite her, but he couldn't manage. The only thing he could do was say the word that had been pounding through his head with every swing of the mallet.

"Strange…" His lips curled, almost tasting the poison that it had been on his daughter's spirit all this time. "They actually told her she was strange and that was why Rebecca-"

"She knows it isn't true now. She's remarkable and those kids are moronic little twats who all need a good hiding that I'd be happy to provide, especially to that vile Kayla girl."

"Her parents might object."

"For their sake, they better bring iron chains when they do because that's about all that could stop me."

Will narrowed his eyes, studying her and wondering how he had missed it that first night at the club. At that moment in time, she had been a sweet and vulnerable creature that had called out to some part of him to receive whatever comfort and protection he could give her, but in these weeks together it was her fierceness that had slowly fought through to the surface. Her ire over the teasing Lucy had faced from her classmates beckoned to him; it screamed to him to take notice and take her along with it. He just couldn't. Now was far from the time and even if the universe ever decided to let up for more than a second sometime in the future, what could he ever give Elizabeth that she couldn't provide for herself? Their baby wasn't even born yet and she was already the better parent between the two of them.

"Thank you for getting her to talk," he finally said to the floor, unable to look as she saw his shame laid bare.

"She was ready, that's all it was. If you had been here to ask her, she would've-"

"No, she wouldn't have told me anything."

"Will, you're her father. She knows that-"

"She needs to take care of me." Jaw clenching, he wanted to run back out to the shed and lay waste to everything inside. It had been Elizabeth reluctantly telling him that earlier that had sent him out there in the first place. The frustration of keeping his wrath contained roared back to life. "I'm her father and I've done such a bang-up job that a five-year-old thinks she needs to hide the abuse she was getting at school in case it upsets me too much. I'm fucking Parent of the Year, aren't I?"

He heard her stand, equally relieved and upset that the harshness of his voice pushed her to leave him with his wallowing. Instead of heading to her room, though, she put her mug in the kitchen and returned, perching herself directly in front of him on the coffee table and taking his hand in her soft one. "You can't see something that she kept locked away."

"She's not supposed to be able to hide things, is my point," he argued, not allowing himself any joy at the feel of Elizabeth's touch. He hadn't earned it. "I should have seen this ages ago."

"How could you have? Between getting the new job and…and everything else that's changed, it's only natural that things in your life got a bit less attention."

"Not my daughter." His sneer felt foreign. This was a side of him he didn't like Elizabeth seeing, weak and lashing out like a wounded animal. "Losing sight of her is the most unnatural thing I've ever done."

"You can't put it all on your shoulders." Her persistence in trying to relieve his guilt only poured more fuel on his fire. "I've been with her every day and I didn't see it either."

"Yeah, well it's different for you."

"How?"

"She isn't yours," he spat out before he could stop himself.

None of the windows were open yet Will felt an acute chill sweep through the room. Slowly, Elizabeth released his hand and he forced himself to glance at her. Something dark passed over her face, flaring her nostrils slightly and settling into the hard line of her mouth. He didn't know why, but she looked almost murderous with rage. It was nearly as arousing as it was frightening. Will wrestled to keep his baser instincts tamped down as Elizabeth took control of her feelings and her lovely features became unreadable.

"You're right," she said simply. "You're Lucy's only parent and you missed her pain for far too long." She might as well have been stabbing a sharp blade into his gut. It would've hurt less than her words did. "But now it's real and it's up to you to get her to the other side of it all, something you'll have difficulty doing if you keep sitting here in the dark, hating the world and feeling sorry for yourself." With that, she left for her bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her and leaving Will speechless in her wake.

 _Fierce…That's a word for her. No prisoners when she does battle, just slaughtering the livestock and salting the earth._

She wasn't wrong, though. Her harsh critique was the catalyst he needed to wrangle in his defeatist mindset and put it back where it needed to be: on Lucy and on her needs for tomorrow. There was only a few more weeks left in the school term so switching her to another classroom was out of the question. Not that he wanted to disrupt Lucy's routine, not truly. She loved her teacher and her lessons. Taking her away from that would only be traumatic. He just wanted her out of the line of fire after weeks of torment. Of his limited options, keeping her in place and alerting the school in the morning to the bullying seemed to be the only viable.

Sighing, he stood and started for his room, pausing outside of Elizabeth's door. Now that his head was clear, he realized how irrational it was to take his anger out on her. She had been nothing but supportive through all the craziness lately and it was only through her actions that they knew what Lucy had been enduring. Like all manner of things in their lives, she deserved far more than he could ever give her; an apology was the very least of what she was owed. Hand raised to the door, he hesitated, unable to face her. Perhaps time to let her cool down was best. After all, she had had an earlier start than he with the added bonus of handling his daughter's emotional well-being all on her own.

Besides, there was someone else he needed to see now more than Elizabeth's.

Pushing open the door to Lucy's room as quietly as he could, he tiptoed in and knelt by her bed, the soft nightlight guiding him to his daughter's sleeping face. Unable to stop himself, he brushed back a tendril of hair from her face and bent to kiss her forehead, breathing in her delicate scent of sand and pineapple her shampoo provided, wishing so much (and not for the first time) that there was a way for his love to shield the horrors of the world away from her innocence. Pulling back slowly, he felt a little hand patting his cheek.

"Hi Daddy," Lucy whispered, her eyes sleepy yet sparkling for him nonetheless.

Despite himself, he smiled and gently rubbed his nose to hers. "I'm sorry I woke you," he whispered back.

"It's okay. I missed you today."

"I missed you more." He folded his arm on the pillow and laid his head besides her. "It's late, though. You need to go back to sleep."

"But I want to know about all the ships you fixed today. Were they big? Were any of them pirate ships? Did you-?"

"There's no ships to fix yet. We're still getting everything set up. Our first job is coming in soon and no, it's not a pirate ship. It's an old warship that helped transport supplies across the Atlantic about eighty years ago. We're restoring it for a museum that's owned by a friend of Mr. DeMarcus."

"Can I come see it?"

"Of course. Maybe they'll let us rename it _The Lucy_ in your honor." She giggled quietly and he laid a hand on her face, running his thumb along the delicate skin of her cheekbone as his smile faded. "Elizabeth told me what you two talked about today."

"Oh…"

"You should've told me that kids were being mean to you, sweetheart. You can't keep things like that to yourself."

"I…I was just…I didn't want you to-"

"I know," he said quickly, not willing to hear her say the words out loud, sure that they'd rip his heart out on the spot. "I know you just wanted to handle things on your own because…because you're far too much like me for your own good."

She frowned at the wistfulness in his voice. "I like being like you, Daddy."

 _You shouldn't_ , he thought, smoothing the lines on her face until she relaxed into a small smile. He was almost overcome that something this beautiful and precious belonged to him. _You should want to be far better than me, young lady._

Instead of telling her that, he asked her, "Well, you know what I like?"

"What?"

"When you tell me silly lies that even sillier little girls are telling and trying to pass off as the truth. Because every single word that that girl Kayla told you was a lie." He leaned in to kiss her cheek. "You're spectacular, with not a hint of strange anywhere on you." He kissed her other cheek. "Every parent should be lucky enough to have a little scamp like you to call their own." He pressed one more lingering kiss on her forehead before leaning his against hers. "And your mother…she didn't leave because of you. I know it's hard now to not have her. It's just something you have to be a bit older to understand."

"She was very sick, right?" Will nodded. He dreaded the day when Lucy learned the truth about what illness had taken her mother from her, but nowhere near as much as the dread he had felt before she was born, searching through the house every day for hidden needles and baggies. "Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"What's…I mean, what was she like? M-Mummy?"

"Um…" Will searched for something positive he could say about Rebecca. It was the first time Lucy had ever asked for specifics and he wasn't prepared in the least, especially given the late hour. Squinting slightly in the semi-darkness, his eyes focused on pictures of Lucy's that she had tapped to the wall behind her. "She liked to draw."

"Really?"

Will was as surprised by the memory as Lucy was. He thought he had banished all the good that there had once been in Rebecca from his mind when the shadow of herself that was her addiction had taken control of her. "Yeah, she did," he said, remembering more as he continued to speak. "She was very, very talented. When we were in school, she always had a notebook with her. She'd draw sketches in it all the time, even when we were supposed to be in lessons."

"I bet she got in trouble a lot. Her teachers must have put her in time-out."

 _More like expulsion and juvie, but time-out works too_.

"You know what her favorite thing to draw on was?" Lucy shook her head. "You. When you were growing and making her stomach big, I'd come home sometimes to find her drawing on it."

"How come?"

If he went by his recollections, he'd have to tell her that her mother needed something to do with her hands to keep from clawing through her skin to rip her veins out, but that wasn't something he could ever say. "I think," he began carefully, "that she wanted you to be artistic, like her. Even before you were born, it was her way of sharing something she loved with you."

"Like how Elizabeth and I bake together now," Lucy reasoned, almost to herself.

"Right," he agreed just as quietly, stomach twisting at the thought of the woman feet across the hall from them and all that she had done for Lucy by simply being there at the end of the day. "I'm glad you found something that you like to do with her after school."

"I like doing lots of things with her. She's really smart, too. She told me what to do if Kayla tries to be mean again."

"Oh really?" His body still aching slightly from his tussle with the car door, he hoisted himself up until he was laying on the bed on his side, his feet knocking over a stray stuffed monkey and a copy of _Little Red Riding Hood_. Lucy turned so her back was to him, pulling his arm over her as an extra blanket. "What was her advice?"

"To play with the other kids and ignore Kayla. She said if Kayla sees she can't make me unhappy, she'll leave me alone."

"That sounds clever. Are you going to try that?"

"Uh-huh. I do want to play at recess sometimes and make new friends. Grown-up friends are fun, but it might be nice to not have to look up so much."

"Then listen to Elizabeth," he said, laughing a little in her ear. Her insights were priceless and better medicine than any doctor could prescribe. "I'm still going to talk to Miss Christina in the morning. Hopefully, we can make sure Kayla doesn't bother you anymore but if she tries, do what Elizabeth said. It'll probably work. Most of her ideas seem to."

"Okay." His eyes began to close, the stresses of the day starting to weigh him down with sleep, when Lucy spoke again. "She likes Abigail."

"Who's that?"

"A name for the baby, if she's a girl. We talked about it today when we finished our cookies. That's the name Elizabeth likes the most. It was her nana's name."

"Abigail…?"

"I liked Maleficent and Belladonna best, but I guess Abigail is okay."

He imagined another blonde haired little girl, her locks curly and a few shades darker than Lucy's, toddling her first steps in the sand as Elizabeth held her tiny hands in support. "Yeah, I like Abigail too."

"Only if she's a girl. We can't call a boy that."

Oblivion was calling loudly, to Will and his daughter both, her breathing beginning to even out with his. Still, he asked, "What'll we call him then?"

"Elizabeth won't tell, but she already knows."

"Okay."

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"She's a good mummy already."

"Yeah," Will agreed as he fell into a dreamless sleep so deep, it seemed only a moment had passed when he felt a hand gently shake his shoulder. Jerking slightly, he blinked until he could make out Elizabeth's blurred form standing over him.

"Hey," she whispered. The early sunlight streaming into the room formed a shimmering halo around her hair. "I-I didn't want you to be late your second day."

"S'kay." He groaned as soundlessly as he could, getting up and trying not to jostle the bed too much before placing one more kiss to Lucy's forehead, slipping the covers more securely over her. He'd let he have a few more minutes of rest before we sent her back into the lion's den that was her classroom. After showering and dressing, he met Elizabeth in the kitchen and was surprised when she set a mug of coffee down and a plate with a light breakfast before him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The taste of his coffee – two sugars and a splash of cream, just how he liked it – heartened him enough to apologize. "Elizabeth, I-"

"I'm sorry," she said, pouring herself a glass of juice and sitting beside him. "I'm so sorry for last night."

"For what?" His confusion was only matched by his concern as he took in her appearance: dark circles under her red eyes and pale skin, which spoke of a much more restless night than the one he had had cramped in Lucy's small bed.

She cocked her head and stared at him incredulously. "For what? How about for making you feel like you had failed your daughter in some way when I know for a fact you'd die for her? Or for lecturing you on how to be a parent to her? Or making you sound like a selfish bastard when you're the furthest thing from it? Take your pick, sir."

"No, because I'm the one apologizing to you. I'm the one that nearly bit your head off when all you were doing was trying to help." Tentatively, he laid a hand over hers. He still hadn't earned it, but he wanted to comfort her. "That's all you've done since you got here is try to help."

"Oh yes, I've helped plenty," she said, swirling her oatmeal absently with her spoon.

"What are you on about?"

"It…It was me, Will. I'm the reason they started teasing her again." She looked to him and he was stunned to find unshed tears glimmering in her eyes. "I started picking her up from school and someone's parent probably made a comment that got passed around the classroom until Kayla set her sights back on Lucy."

"That's crazy." He would've laughed outright, except for how serious she seemed. He realized she truly believed it. "Elizabeth, you can't really think that-"

"Tell me we're not the favorite subject of gossip on this island," she dared him, raising her eyebrow in challenge. "Tell me you haven't noticed how the whispers or conversations shift when you go into a store or when you drop her off in the mornings. Tell me that Kayla didn't overhear her parents going on about the woman Lucy Turner's father knocked up. Tell me that didn't trigger all of this coming down on that sweet little girl's head." When he couldn't deny her, she turned from him with a sigh and went to the counter, fixing up a bowl of cereal and getting Lucy's plastic cup out of the cabinet.

Once he had let her start minding Lucy after school, the floodgates had opened and her maternal instincts blossomed to the point where Will could hear the warning bells going off in his head, his subconscious sensing the danger that was sneaking up on all three of them, but even then, he couldn't make himself stop her. He liked watching her take care of Lucy far too much.

 _Really? "Like"? That's the word you're going with?_

No, it wasn't the right word, but if he used the one he really wanted to, he'd be driving his car off the cliff with no seatbelts and nothing except jagged rocks at the bottom to catch him.

Instead of continuing on that touchy subject, he tried to explain away her earlier fears. "People here…there's not much to do in this town except talk. They'll find something new to pretend to be offended over soon enough, I promise. They did when…I mean, before you, when it was me and…I speak from experience, they'll get over it." He chuckled nervously when she kept her back to him. "If you want, I can have Jack get sloshed and run naked across the townhall like he did a few years ago. Anamaria and I had to-"

"Lucy wasn't aware of anything last time you went through this," Elizabeth told him tiredly. "She is now and it isn't fair for her to have repercussions from our decisions. Not to mention, it probably doesn't help to have people say unseemly things about you when you're working to earn your new boss's favor."

"Hank's not a bloke who cares about that sort of thing. He's almost more of a pirate than Jack is."

"Well, I care. I care very much when strangers make rude remarks about you or Lucy because I'm here." She reached around to the back of her neck, massaging the tense muscles there. A force he couldn't control pulled him up from his seat and he inched his way over until he was almost behind her, hands prepared to take over for her. Even from a few steps away, her fragrance was nearly overpowering, so much so that her next words took a moment to register. "Maybe…Maybe if I got my own place, it wouldn't be-"

"No," he said at once. He saw her flinch and turn to him, startled by his nearness and he hastened to move back, as much for himself as for her. He hadn't realized how close he had come to pressing up to her body until it was almost too late. "W-What I mean is you shouldn't just decide something like this on a whim."

"It's not…I haven't…I was only supposed to be here until I found a job and got things together, not clomp around your house all this time and-"

"You've barely been here two months!" He tried to laugh off the devastating sense of terror he felt creeping along his spine.

She couldn't leave. They hadn't had enough time together. He wasn't ready to face a day where he couldn't see her or talk to or hear her play with Lucy or…

He wasn't ready to lose her yet.

"I know and I'm grateful for how patient you've been with me, especially given my penchant lately for destroying your property." She nodded towards his new phone that he had left on the counter, blushing faintly again and nearly causing him to break out in a sweat.

 _How did I ever have sex before I met her?_ Will thought, battling to maintain his calm façade. _How did I ever find other women remotely attractive? Lucy really is a miracle._

"I-I-I needed a new phone anyway," was all he could think to say. He didn't know how, but it did the trick and she smiled timidly. Taking a deep breath, he decided to test his chances and asked her, "Are you happy here?"

"That's not the point. Will, I shouldn't stay if it's upsetting Lucy's life."

"Upsetting her…?" This time, he couldn't hold back his disbelieving snicker. "She's happier with you than I've ever seen her with anyone."

For the first time that morning, there was a hint of hope peeking through in her eyes. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Pushing his limits even further, he took her by the shoulders, ordering himself to not let his gaze drift down to what her loose-fitting tank top was tempting him with. "And I know for a fact that being with her makes you happy, right?" She nodded, her teeth catching her bottom lip, pulling him a bit off target. "S-So why the hell are you letting people who don't know a damn thing about you force something that you don't want?"

Her smile became almost rueful. "That's almost exactly what I told Lucy yesterday."

"Well, it was good advice. Maybe you should take it yourself."

"Maybe I will then." Now her smile was a full-fledged beam that he returned, his thumb gently brushing along a freckle near the strap of her shirt. Silk would be envious of the texture of her skin. To keep himself from lunging towards her, he kept talking. "I hope it wasn't something ridiculous like that that kept you awake all night."

"How did you know-?"

"You look exhausted." He studied her more closely, desire abated as worry took its place. "Are you feeling okay? Do you need to call Corrine?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I'm fine. We're fine. I just…I had a bad dream." She rolled her eyes a little. "It was stupid."

"Not if it made you upset, it wasn't. Do you want to talk about it?" Will pressed her gently, hoping she had an iota of the trust in him that he had for her.

Silence seemed to be the answer to his question and he reluctantly let her go, backing away when her hand suddenly caught his. Swallowing, she could only look at their connection before she began. "I…I was dreaming…well, actually, remembering when, uh, I…"

"Morning!" Whatever else Elizabeth was going to say disappeared from her lips along with the absorbed set of her face when his daughter made her grand entrance, immediately letting go of Will's hand and he tried not to feel the loss of it.

"There's Lucy-Goosey!" Painting a huge smile on her face, Elizabeth dropped a kiss on her messy hair as she delivered breakfast to her. "Good morning to you!"

"Morning, sweetheart." He sat down beside her, finishing his meal and taking in her pristine school uniform. "Eager to start the day, eh?"

"Uh-huh," she said around a mouthful of cereal. As she ate, Elizabeth retrieved a hairbrush, combing through Lucy's hair. "I want to have fun at school again."

"Well, you just be yourself and don't let anyone tell you it's wrong," Elizabeth told her, trying to keep her work neat as Lucy kept eating. An idea suddenly popped into Will's head. "Remember what I told you?"

"'I'm sorry, we're too busy here having loads of fun. Could you repeat that please?'" Lucy bent her neck back, interrupting the impromptu salon session. "I practiced before I fell asleep the first time!"

"And you learned it perfectly. Now, head down." Her brushing didn't cease as she addressed Will. "Won't Kayla be properly chagrined if she tries to tangle with this one?" When he didn't answer, she tried again. "Will?"

"I-I'll be right back," he said, ignoring Elizabeth's stare as he got up from the table and headed into Lucy's room, searching her dresser quickly until he found what he needed. Keeping his prize behind him, he rejoined them to find Elizabeth styling Lucy's hair into some sort of elaborate bun that Will would have knotted his fingers into if he ever tried it. "Are you ready? We have to leave soon."

"Yup." Lucy took one more bite of cereal and gulped down her juice as Elizabeth finished her masterpiece. "Just have to brush my teeth."

He pretended to examine her closely, keeping his hand hidden. "But you're not dressed yet."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not," he argued. Elizabeth tried to ask him wordlessly over Lucy's head what he was doing, but he only winked at her.

Lucy frowned, giving herself a onceover, even turning and trying to find a stain on her back she might have missed. "Daddy, what are you…?" Her eyes widened to saucers when she faced him again, finding a pair of knee-high socks dangling from his hand: one green with yellow stripes, the other bright orange.

"If you're going to let kids get to know you, they're going to know the real you." Unable to handle her excitement, she bounced up and down, squealing and making the small table shake. Laughing, he stilled her by sitting her in the chair and bent down to change her out of the white socks. "Now, if Miss Christina says you can't do this again after today, we have to respect that rule, but if she says it's alright, you can wear funny socks every Friday. Deal?"

"We have an accord!" Lucy proclaimed, borrowing one of Jack's favorite sayings.

"Excellent." Patting her knee, he took both of her hands and brought them to his lips. "I love you."

"Love you, too." After a quick squeeze, she raced off to the bathroom and Will looked up from his crouched position on the floor to find Elizabeth cleaning up the table. "I've got it," he said as he rose.

"It's fine," she said, letting her long hair fall in front of her face and hiding from him as she went to the sink. Sensing her need to withdraw, he busied himself picking up Lucy's backpack and his new messenger bag, a concession into his foray with professionalism.

He hated when she held back. He hated not having the tools he needed to unlock her secrets, to be let into her life completely. At the strangest times, whenever he felt like he was making progress in gaining a trace of her affections, some sight or phrase could trigger something inside of her that made her retreat into a place he couldn't enter, no matter what he offered her. The women in his life certainly were curious creatures when left to their own devices and downright maddening when the mood struck them.

It was almost enough to send him back to the shed.

Thankfully, Lucy sprinted back in, barely pausing to slip on her shoes and give Elizabeth a quick hug goodbye before she raced to the car. "Can you please call me when you get her?" Will asked from the doorway. "Let me know how it went?"

"Sure," she said without turning. "Have a good day."

"You, too." Waving to her silhouette, he conceded his defeat in this skirmish with her dogged need to take care of herself, vowing to fight harder next time.

From there, his day was occupied at the shipyard, gathering a staff and working closely with Nathaniel. Will's knowledge about ship construction and architecture all came from firsthand experience out on the docks or in the open water, but Nathaniel was classically trained and possessed a more academic approach to design that differed from Will's more freehanded approach. Luckily, Will was an eager pupil and Nathaniel a patient teacher; Hank had been right in sensing their two styles would mesh well together and the seeds of a fruitful partnership were planted as they spent hours reviewing various blueprints, manuals, and textbooks. The only thing that came between their work was Will near-constant checking of his phone. As the hours went by with nothing from the school, Will relaxed slightly at the knowledge that there hadn't been an altercation worthy of adult intervention, but by three o'clock, he hadn't heard from Elizabeth either and panic was beginning to swell in his gut when finally his phone finally pinged with a text message from her:

" **Everything's fine. Lucy wants to tell you herself. See you at home."**

If he had been distracted before, now he was basically useless as Nathaniel was having him draw up a spec design of a fluyt to test his skill. Three sentences and all he was left with was more questions than answers. What encompassed "everything" according to Elizabeth? Could she have used a more interpretable word besides fine? Why did Lucy need to deliver news herself? If "everything" was "fine", what news was there?

 _And did Elizabeth mean what I want her to mean when she said "home"?_

It was only the commitment to this job that Jack had gone out of his way to secure for him that kept Will from speeding back to his cottage. His rational mind understood that Lucy was physically safe and that anything else was manageable so long as that first part was covered; it was his heart that only a father could truly understand that kept poking and gnawing at his mind unpleasantly with thoughts of what could have gone wrong for her today. When Nathaniel finally took pity on him and decided they were done, Will practically flew out, grateful for living in a town that could be traversed with relative ease. By breaking the most minor of speeding laws, he made it home in record time, steeling himself for whatever state he found his daughter in.

He wasn't even two steps away from his car when Lucy came bounding out of the house, flinging herself into his arms. "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" The joy in her voice almost made him stumble with relief. "Today was the bestest day ever!"

"Oh, that's wonderful sweetheart."

"This girl, Sophie, she saw my socks when we got to class and she said liked them a lot! We ate together at lunch with two other girls and they said I was really cool and brave to dress like that and when we were outside, I asked if they wanted me to teach them how to play pirates and they did and they let me be the captain and then some of the boys wanted to play too and…and…"

Will couldn't stop his laughter, almost giddy seeing her this happy. "It's okay to stop to breathe, Lucy."

"I know, I just want to tell it all before I forget!" She gasped loudly in his ear as he started to carry her across the yard. "Guess what?!"

"What?"

"Sophie and I had so much fun, she asked if I wanted to go and play at her house sometime! Can I?! Or can she come here?!"

"Yeah, we'll get that set up. Did you have any troubles with Kayla?"

"Nope! Miss Christina talked to her before role call and she didn't come near me at all, but even if she did I wouldn't have cared! You don't notice mean people when you have fun. Did you know that?"

"I do now."

"Oh, and Miss Christina said I could keep wearing my socks! She said they were my magic socks! Are they?"

"Not in the least." Elizabeth met them on the porch with a smile and lightly tapped Lucy's chest. "You've got all your magic here, not in your smelly little feet."

"Amen to that," he smiled in agreement. Setting Lucy down as wiggled her way to the floor, she flew into the house leaving him alone with Elizabeth. "Thank you," he told her again, hoping that his sincerity for what she alone had helped do for Lucy came across.

"You're welcome." They each leaned against opposite sides of the doorjamb. "But…it wasn't for you. I wanted to help her for **her**. I just wanted to see her happy again."

"And that's what I'm grateful for. You…" Will's praise trailed off slowly as he examined her up close. "Is that…Is that a new outfit?"

Her fingers twisted together and she shifted slightly. "Um, I went shopping with Anamaria before I got Lucy. I…I just needed some new…" Taking a deep breath, she turned in profile and Will needed the support of the house to keep him upright.

It was minute, hardly discernible when he looked at her straight away, but it was there now and Will would never look at her the same way again. The gentle curve he had only glimpsed briefly at her scan was no longer hidden in the pair of shorts she now wore and anyone who saw her would easily be able to tell what that curve was:

A baby.

 **Their** baby.

 _There's Abigail or…whatever she wants to call a boy_ , he thought with wonder. _She can name him whatever she wants. Anything she wants is hers._

Now wasn't the time for finesse or subtle nuance. "You look beautiful," he told her.

Her hair was pulled up so she couldn't hide from him this time though by the glint in her eyes, she didn't seem to want to. "It's the real me now," she said with a playful shrug, a hand coming down to trace over her stomach. "I figured it was time people around here got a peek."

His hand flexed in his pocket, aching to join Elizabeth's on its path over their child. Rebecca had never let him touch her stomach when she was conscious, always swatting his hands away and viciously reminding him that she wasn't some sort of animal to be petted. All the kicks and jabs he had felt from Lucy had been when Rebecca was deep in sleep so as not to earn any more vitriol than he got from her on a daily basis. But as Elizabeth had told him herself, she wasn't Rebecca.

Maybe she wouldn't mind if he wanted to feel this connection to the baby. Maybe she wouldn't mind if he touched her.

Maybe…

Lucy bumped into his legs as she skidded in between them. He didn't have a chance to see what she needed when she raced back down the steps and shouted, "BRIA!"

Will's head whipped around so fast he heard his neck creak slightly over Elizabeth's squeal of surprise and delight. He stood dumbfounded, watching Lucy wrap her arms around the waist of the redheaded woman he vaguely recognized from the Black Pearl and more clearly knew from the countless pictures Elizabeth had of them together on her phone. Though as styled to perfection in the flesh as she appeared on a screen, in none of the pictures did she look as uncomfortable as she did now, grimacing and arms raised defensively over Lucy's head.

"Why is it hugging me?!" Bria asked Elizabeth loudly, trying to edge her way out of Lucy's tight grasp, backing further into the sleek rented car that looked as out of place as she did among the sparse grass and palm trees.

"OH MY GOD!" Elizabeth shrieked before he had a chance to take offense on behalf of his daughter and ran to join them, enveloping her friend in a hug that trapped Lucy in the middle. With only the goal of a rescue in mind, he made his way to the group and caught the tail end of the conversation.

"…I finally couldn't stand it a second longer and hopped on a plane for a nice long visit," Bria explained, pulling back and cupping Elizabeth's cheeks. "I had to see you again." Her gaze lowering, she ripped off her sunglass and squinted. "All of you! Oh my goodness, you've got a pudge!"

"No," Lucy said, letting go of the woman to nuzzle into Will's side. "That's the baby."

"Shhh!" Bria waved her off impatiently. "Grown-ups are talking now."

Instead of being hurt or upset, Lucy giggled sweetly. "Elizabeth was right, you are funny."

"And very, very rude, but I love her anyway," Elizabeth said, hugging the Scot closely. "I missed you more than the world."

"That's lovely. I just missed your brownies." Laughing, she kept one arm around Elizabeth's shoulder and let her free hand pat the small baby bump, sparking off a flare of jealously in Will he could almost taste. "I guess I'll have you too."

"So incredibly rude."

"Like you, as you haven't made introductions, Lizzie."

"Of course." Gathering herself, Elizabeth pointed between them all. "Will and Lucy Turner, this is my dearest friend in the world, Bria McKendrick."

Deciding to stay on her good side until he knew exactly how long this visit was lasting, Will held out his hand cordially. "Nice to see you again."

"You as well," Bria told him with such dripping false cheer, he was amazed his teeth didn't ache. She shook his hand with a vice-like grip. "Although I'm a little surprised you remember meeting me."

He reminded himself that this was someone that Elizabeth loved and caught the apologetic look she was shooting him. "Why wouldn't I?"

She chuckled loudly and he felt her sharp nails start to pierce into his skin. "Well, after all, there were some **very** important things that you did forget that night…"

 _Great_ , he thought, letting go of her hand and shaking it a bit to restore feeling. _This is going to be fun._


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Hello again! This is a solo Elizabeth chapter so we'll do a Will one next. The name of the festival I used is an actual one in the Caribbean, although I'm repurposing it a little bit here. I think given the length of chapters lately and RL, I'm going to try to stick to updating once a month. If I can go for more, I'll do it, but I'll shoot for at least one update every four week for now. Hopefully, any grammar/spelling errors aren't too terrible. Please enjoy and let me know what you think! Thanks!**

* * *

Elizabeth watched sullenly from the taxi, checking the dashboard clock for the third time as Bria continued flirting with the man on the busy sidewalk, cursing her best friend for dragging her out on her only day off this week. Junkanoo, the start of summer festival Anamaria had been having her entire staff obsess over for more than a month, was days away and even knowing how busy she was with preparations, Bria had still dragged her into Kingston.

 _Come on_ , Elizabeth thought, resisting the impulse to chuck a shoe out the window when she saw Bria throw her head back in exaggerated laughter. _Just rip your knickers off and shove them down his throat. You'd be less subtle than you're being now._

At last, Bria wiggled her fingers in farewell and took a leisurely stroll to the car, climbing in the backseat and buckling her seatbelt. Elizabeth couldn't hold back her frustration as the driver pulled them away from the curb.

"Good grief, woman, I thought you were going to straddle him in the stairwell. Have you not heard of -OUCH!" Elizabeth tried to pull away as Bria yanked hard on her ear, tugging her down close to armrest. "LET GO!"

"I will when you behave."

"Brianna, you can't just -!"

"Say you'll behave and you'll be free."

"NO!"

"Yes."

"NO!" Bria started twisting the lobe and Elizabeth batted at her side. "What did I do to -?!"

"Say you'll behave like a human being, **NOT** like the obnoxious little piggy you've been since lunchtime, and you can have your ear back." Elizabeth snarled and mumbled low through her teeth. "I'm sorry, I'm not fluent in piggy-speak. Can we try it in the Queen's English please?"

"Argh…I'll behave!" Elizabeth growled, letting out a breath when she was released. She gave Bria two sharp smacks to the shoulder in return before rubbing her tender ear. "What was that for?!"

Bria pulled out her phone, thumbing through her messages. "If you act like a toddler, I will treat you like one."

"You are **never** minding my child for me!

"Good! I never offered to!" The rode in dull silence until Bria, calm and collected, said, "You were a right royal bitch back there, Lizzie, and I have no idea why."

"Because I have other things I wanted to do on my day off besides traipse through Kingston with you. If you had bothered to ask before you kidnapped me, I would have told you that."

"Well, you wouldn't have come if I had told you."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because every time I've even mentioned things like flats, real estate brokers, or down payments, you pretend to be a stupid person who doesn't understand what I'm saying."

Elizabeth stared out the open window, the balmy late afternoon breeze doing little to cool her fiery temper. "Maybe if you hadn't been carping on about those things since you got here, I'd be a little more receptive."

"Maybe if you had done some work in terms of getting your shite together before that bairn arrives, I wouldn't have had to kick your arse into gear."

"That's a bit dramatic. Need I remind you I landed an incredibly rewarding job that actually makes me feel happy and productive?"

"Which is wonderful, as I've told you. Now we need to find a place for the both of you to live."

"Why?" Elizabeth huffed petulantly, folding her arms across her chest before she caught Bria's sideway frown. "I…I mean, why right this instant? I've still got almost five months until the baby's born."

"You're an adult, Lizzie, and about to be someone's mother. Pretending the future won't happen just because it feels uncomfortable will do nothing to stop time from catching up to you. Before you know it, you'll be holding my godchild in your arms. Do you still want to be crashing at Will's when that happens?"

The resounding yes was on the tip of her tongue, begging for release, but she managed to hold it in.

"Of course not," Elizabeth said out loud, keeping her eyes on the bustling streets of the city. It was a fraction of the size of London yet she acutely noticed the hustle and bustle of it, even more now after so long spent on that quiet stretch of beach in the clapboard house with peeling paint. "Kingston's just too far away."

"Twenty minutes on the ferry. Ten minutes to Dulzura after that, thirty minutes from there to Will's. Try again, luv."

"No," Elizabeth argued, fed up with the conversation. "I don't have to justify my life or my decisions to you."

"That's right." Bria paused for effect. "Because you actually have to make decisions in the first place in order to defend them."

Elizabeth wanted to stand up for herself, wanted to lay into her friend with both barrels blazing except that – as she nearly always was – Bria was right.

She had come to the Caribbean with every intention of finding a job and setting up a place of her own at the earliest opportunity. Money had been the main impediment but now that she had a steady income, she realized it was high past the time she should have begun looking. A flat or a small house wasn't going to magically appear down from the sky with the snap of her fingers. Bria had hammered that point across since her unceremonious arrival. And Elizabeth knew she meant well, despite her blunt, unapologetic approach. Bria would always want what was best for her, would always try to guide (or physically drag her kicking and screaming) to the right path. Elizabeth loved her for it; she was the surrogate mother and sister Elizabeth had continually needed to help turn the chaos of her self-conflicting doubts about who she was and where she was going into a semblance of sanity. If Bria thought that she needed to finally find her home here, then she was probably right. Elizabeth would do well to listen to her.

 _Even if it means saying goodbye to being with Will and Lucy every day?_

Elizabeth bit back the small ache such a thought caused her heart. The hormonal shifts Shelf caused lately were wreaking havoc on the already tenuous grasp of calm she had held onto since Bria had picked her up earlier; going around to all the various flats with the handsome broker Bria had all but given the business to in broad daylight certainly hadn't helped. Despite the efforts of the pair, Elizabeth always found something dreadfully wrong with one place or another: an outdated kitchen; no park near the neighborhood; too much sunlight in the living room; hideous tiles. The excuses were endless and all without merit. The truth was all those places she had scoffed at today were wrong for her because if she chose any of them, she'd be living there alone until the baby came.

She didn't know how she'd survive it without seeing the Turners whenever she wanted to.

It hadn't happened all at once. It had snuck up on her gradually. One day, she was fretting about taking up too much time in the loo or making sure her dishes were separate from his and now, just the idea of someday not being able to read with Lucy on the couch while Will prepared a simple dinner for the three of them was enough to send her into a tailspin, triggering such anxiety that she was taking it all out on Bria. What could be done, though? If she ever looked too deep into the heart of her distress, she knew what she'd find as it's root and there was no way to resolve it, not without risking her child's future.

So, a standstill it would be.

It seemed the most pragmatic decision for someone who didn't like to make decisions.

Sighing, she pushed her dilemma to the side and apologized to her friend. "I'm sorry I was such an obnoxious little piggy back there. I know you're just trying to help."

"You're forgiven. Always and forever forgiven," Bria replied with an easy smile. She reached over to pat Elizabeth's stomach gently. "I still can't believe there's a person in you."

"I know," Elizabeth agreed, laying her hand over Bria's. "I can't wait for the next scan. We'll find out the sex."

"Aye, you want to meet the princess officially."

"Prince. He's a boy."

"Really? You want a repulsive, smelly, demonic beast instead of an angelic girl?"

"No, all I want is a healthy baby. I just have a feeling it's a boy."

Again with the half-truths. She was getting too good at them. Health was the most important thing, without question. Nonetheless there was something inside of Elizabeth – a yearning she couldn't fully understand – that wanted badly to have Will's son; to see him recreated and mingled with tiny bits of herself in his features; to see the pride in his eyes as she placed his boy in his arms, knowing that she was the one who had given him someone to carry on his family name.

"Well, I want to be there to see this scan and mock you if you're wrong," Bria said as they pulled into the station to board the boat back to Arbor Bay. It wasn't until they were onboard, leaning over the metal barrier that something occurred to her.

"You've already missed so much work on this visit. How can you stay any longer?" Bria bit her lip and pulled her phone out again, trying to ignore the question, but Elizabeth snatched it away and held it over the open water in threat. "What's going on?"

"I'm not fired." She held up her hand to swear an oath. "I swear on my nan's life and David Beckham's manhood that I'm not fired."

"Bria, what happened?"

"Nothing. I just decided to-" Elizabeth wound back to launch the device as far as she could and Bria tried to grab it back to no avail. "OKAY! STOP! I was placed on leave for a month," she ground out.

Worry flooded her heart as she handed the phone back to her friend. "Are you alright? Are you sick?"

"It's…It's not medical." Bria put the device in her purse and took an unconscious step back, bracing herself for a bad reaction. "It's disciplinary. A month's suspension and I thought it would be a good time to come check on you."

"A month?! What did you do?" Bria cringed, her face matching her hair, and Elizabeth's mouth fell open in a gasp. " **Who** did you do?!"

"In my defense, his wife was the firm's client, not mine directly, and if he was as serious about working on his marriage as he told her he was, he wouldn't have been trolling the bars on a Saturday night."

"Weren't you the one who told me to always check for the bloody tan line on the ring finger?"

"Oh, piss off. I'd had a long week dealing with spoiled, sanctimonious rich gits and I needed me a good shag." Her lips curled sourly. "Which, and you'll be pleased to know, he couldn't even manage. No records broken that night."

"You're impossible," Elizabeth said, shaking her head in exasperation while trying to hold back a bemused smile.

"And you're one to talk!" Bria gently poked the side of her stomach. "Trying to make me feel bad about my sexual endeavors when you're lugging this around."

"I don't care who you shag or how often you do it. If you're safe and happy, then I'm happy. That's how it works with us." She turned to lean her back against the bar, staring up at the cloudless sky. "But don't you ever want something where it's not about the physical? Don't you ever want something…more?"

Bria was still as she looked out at the ocean opposite Elizabeth. Finally, when they were almost docked, she quietly asked, "Don't you? Want more?"

An uninvited dream floated through her mind: She was slowly waking up in bed one early morning. A pair of warm arms encircled her as soft lips pressed into her shoulder, the small bit of scruff from Will's goatee itching her skin in the most pleasant way. His hand drifted down to her swollen belly to caress their baby and she nestled her body even closer to him, grinning and cupping the nape of his neck to keep him to her.

There was nothing sexual or passionate about the image; if anything, it made her feel safe and secure. Happy even, happier than she knew she could ever feel. She'd take that sense of peace over any amount of money, any castle to call her own, and a thousand wild romps above the Black Pearl.

The question was, would Will?

Was she worth that to him?

 _You've been in that house for ages now_ , she thought morosely. _If he wanted more, don't you think he would have done something already? Said something already? Given you a sign that he saw you as someone more than the mother of his child?_

"Lizzie?" Bria's finger brushing back a lock of her hair brought her out of her stupor. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she feigned. She should have felt guiltier lying to her best friend, but Bria had taken her into Kingston against her will. "I'm alright."

Bria only chuckled at her with great mirth. "Be glad you got out of law when you did. It would have killed you."

"How so?"

"Dishonesty does not come easily to you, Ms. Swann. At least not with me." The boat stopped and they walked down the gangplank together, arm in arm. "Now, other people, who don't know you like I do, won't be able to read you as well. That's something you should keep in mind." When Elizabeth only looked at her questioningly, Bria laughed even harder. "You really enjoy being a stupid person, don't you?"

"What are you going on about?"

Bria pecked her cheek, pulling out the keys for her rental car as they approached it. "Nothing," she said in a singsong tone. "Nothing at all."

They set off to pick Lucy up from her afterschool playdate. She and her classmate Sophie had hit it off so well that Elizabeth was almost dreading when school ended in three days and the girls would no longer get to see each other daily. With a quick wave goodbye, they joined Bria in the car and Elizabeth sat back to enjoy the show.

"Bria, guess what I saw today?"

There was no response.

"Bria, did you hear me?"

Again, only silence.

"Bria, can I tell you please? Pretty please? I really want to tell you. Please, please, please, plea-"

"What?" The redhead finally moaned, rubbing at her temple. "What happened?"

"A bird flew into the classroom!"

"Okay."

"It was blue and it perched itself on top of the coatrack."

"Great." Bria glanced up in the mirror into the backseat. "And…?"

"It was very neat."

"Did it, like, lay an egg or something?"

"Nope."

"Did it gouge someone's eye out of their socket?"

"Uh-uh."

"Then how was it something worth talking about?"

"Because it was a bird in the classroom!"

"Seriously?" Bria grumbled. "That's not interesting at all. You can see a bird anywhere. Look, out your window. Big 'ole birdie and a bunch of his friends flying in the sky."

"I thought it was interesting."

"Well, then thinking is not your strong suit."

Elizabeth reared her hand back, ready to punish Bria's shoulder again, but was stopped by Lucy's peals of laughter as she said, "I love your jokes, Bria." Still giggling, she pulled a book out her backpack. "You should be in funny movies."

"Aye, I'll get right on that."

"Might as well," Elizabeth said quietly, biting back a smile. "Maybe a career change is in order?"

"Again, piss off."

Elizabeth just beamed brighter. No matter what insulting or dismissive thing her friend said or did to Lucy, the child would only see the good in her, hardly leaving her side whenever Bria found herself at the house or joining them for dinner. It was driving Bria around the twist and Elizabeth was loving every second of it.

Arriving at the cottage, it was much the same as they got out of the car. Lucy hitched her backpack on and started following Bria up the steps, happily chatting about the book her class had read at story time when something distracted her. "Look!" She pointed towards Jack's property. "Bootstrap's back! I can see his boat. Let's go say hello!"

"Bootstrap?" Bria asked as they trailed behind Lucy and headed over to the dock where a few vessels were moored.

"An old friend of Jack's," Elizabeth explained. "He's a sailor, occasionally crashes with them when he needs to come ashore for a bit. He hasn't been back in a while. Nice man, though."

"You've met him?"

"Just the once, but it was a good talk. He's probably the only reason I ended up at the cafe. If he hadn't let me in the house when I needed baking tins, then…" Elizabeth stopped speaking, watching as Bria's lips puckered sharply for the briefest second, as if she were trying to hold back a chuckle. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she said in that same sweet tone as earlier when they left the ferry and schooled her face.

Elizabeth gazed even closer at her, trying to decipher the puzzle. "Your face says you're hiding something."

"My face is a work of art and like any Picasso or Dali, it is open to interpretation." Before Elizabeth could reply, Bria pulled her along. "Come on, you don't want the little tyke to fall off the dock and drown, do you? I mean, I wouldn't mind, but I know Sexy Bar Man would go into a tizzy."

"His name is Will," Elizabeth repeated tiredly for the hundredth time since Bria's arrival.

"Aye, William Turner." Bria smiled; if Elizabeth had to guess, it was a smile of victory, though she had no idea what had been won. "That is his name. And a good, strong name at that. I wonder where he got it from…"

Elizabeth gave up trying to understand what her friend was going on about when they reached the dock and caught Lucy animatedly describing what had happened in his prolonged absence as Bootstrap tidied up the deck of his weathered sloop, smiling at her bemusedly until he saw Elizbeth and Bria approach.

"…and then she became my best friend, but I can't tell Moira or Aimee because I don't want them to feel left out."

"Isn't she a sweet girl?" Elizabeth hugged Lucy from behind, keeping her arms loosely around her when she addressed Bootstrap. "It's good to see you again. I don't know if you remember me. I'm-"

"Elizabeth," he said simply. She thought she saw him glance around as if to look for someone. When he didn't see anything, he nodded to her. "Lovely to see you as well."

"This is my friend, Bria. She's visiting from London. Bria, this is Bootstrap until he tells me otherwise."

Bootstrap reached over the rail to shake Bria's hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Same to you." She ran her hand along the side of the boat, along the scripted lettering of its name: _The Dutchman_. "I thought men named their boats after women they loved?"

Grief was familiar to the lines of Bootstrap's face. He wore it with an ease that Elizabeth hoped she never understood. "Only loved one in my lifetime," he said, winding a length of rope around his arm. "I wouldn't dishonor her memory by thinking I could still call her mine." His eyes fell to Lucy and Elizabeth caught the hint to move the conversation along.

"How long are you in town for? I hope we see you at Junkanoo."

"Perhaps, if I can find the time. I need to make some repairs to this old thing." He gestured around the cluttered deck. "We've both seen better days."

"Say, Lizzie," Bria began, her smile bordering on a sneer, "isn't Will quite handy? Don't you think he'd be able to lend a hand?"

"Um…perhaps. I guess I could ask if he'd-"

"No, that's alright," Bootstrap said, smiling benevolently at Elizabeth when she blinked at his quick refusal. "Jack tells me that he's very busy now with his new job. I wouldn't want to trouble him."

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind," she tried again.

"I'll manage myself. I always do." For some reason, Bootstrap's smile turned wistful before he nodded to the three of them. "If you ladies will excuse me, I need to do some work below."

"Bye Bootstrap! See you later!" Lucy cheerfully waved with one hand as she tugged on Bria with the other, dragging her back towards the cottage and chattering away while Bria kept trying in vain to keep sand out of her £500 wedges. Laughing, Elizabeth turned back to Bootstrap before he disappeared.

"It really was nice to see you again."

He simply nodded and she took her cue to leave when she heard the older man's voice graveled voice.

"Elizabeth?" She turned to him once more and he smiled again, softly this time, his eyes lingering on her stomach. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." Her hand rubbed the small bump, something she was finding harder to resist doing every few minutes as each day passed. Feeling the evidence of her baby was more addictive than any sweet she could imagine.

"Exciting time for you."

"More like terrifying," she admitted. There was something about the mysterious stranger that made it easy for Elizabeth to trust him. "I've never been around babies before. I'm petrified I'm going to break him or her."

"Oh, you'll be just fine. All else fails, follow Will's lead."

She scrunched her eyes, trying to get a closer look at him in harsh sunlight as he moved around the boat. "I thought you didn't know-"

"Lucy." He nodded towards the cottage. "She's a wonderful little girl. Wouldn't be that way if he hadn't raised her right." With a final wave, he headed down below.

 _Odd man. Something about this place and odd men_. Her hand stayed splayed across her stomach as she walked back to the house. _Not you, though. You're going to be perfect, like your father._

It wasn't until later that night that she saw said perfection walk into the kitchen, where she was washing the last of the dinner dishes while Bria nursed a glass of white wine. Jack staggered in behind him and Elizabeth knew that Will's delay was not of his own doing.

"Ah," Jack breathed, wobbling slightly towards her friend and taking her hand in his to place a kiss upon it. "The Lady McKendrick."

"The Captain Sparrow," she intoned saucily, enjoying his attention.

"Alright, you've seen her," Will said to Jack, running a tired hand across his face and dropping his bag in the empty chair. "Give me my wallet back."

Without taking his hazy eyes off Bria, he reached into his pocket and tossed it to Will, who promptly smacked Jack upside the head, jangling the beads of his dreadlocks. Jack only smiled wider at Bria. "Such pains were well worth it to be in the company of such a fetchin' creature as yourself."

Elizabeth could only shake her head. Lucy's fascination with Bria was matched only by Jack's; although his admirations leaned decidedly towards the carnal, something that made her shudder with revulsion.

"How hard exactly," she began to ask Will, turning off the sink, "did Anamaria hit her head before she agreed to move in with him? I mean, was it a gushing open wound? Did she fall down several flights of stairs? I've been trying to work this out for ages."

"You and me both," Will replied, sidling beside her to help dry the plates. He glanced over his shoulder when Bria let out a distinctly feminine giggle at something Jack whispered in her ear. "Suppose some women find it charming," he said with a shrug.

"Not me. If I was marooned on a deserted island with him and had no way to escape, I'd probably burn the whole place to the ground."

"With what? Sticks? Spare matches? Blowtorch that you keep hidden in your purse?"

"Well," she pondered with a small smile, "he does seem to carry a fair amount of rum with him wherever he goes. I could use that for a start."

"I'll tell you a secret." He leaned in close, his breath teasing against her ear in the most delicious way. "I think he'd sooner cut his hair off than share his rum with a woman. He's very attached to it. I've told Anamaria she should give it to him in a baby bottle when she wants some peace at night."

"I heard that," Jack said, tearing away from Bria to shoot him a glare.

"I meant you to."

Their playful squabbling ended when Lucy came into the room, dressed for bed. Instead of going to her father, whom she hadn't seen since breakfast, she made a beeline for her new favorite person in the world, climbing onto Bria's lap despite the woman's ardent protests.

"Look, Bria!" She proudly handed her a piece of paper adorned with bright shapes and scribbles. "I drew this for you! What do you think?"

Pinching it in between her fingers as if it smelled foul, Bria examined it disdainfully. "This is absolute rubbish," she finally said.

"Hey!" Elizabeth and Will cried in tandem, equally horrified. Even Jack looked a little taken aback.

"What? It is!" Setting it on the table, she started pointing to various spots. "The color scheme makes no sense. You have animals in the sky that anatomically cannot fly. And…And what are those supposed to be?"

"Palm trees."

"Seriously?" With a huff, Bria pulled a pen out of her purse and began outlining a shape on a spare patch of the paper. When she was finished, she slammed the pen down triumphantly. "There! **That** is a palm tree."

Most children would have taken offense to such a rebuke; at least a few would have even been sniffling back tears. Not Lucy Turner, though.

"That's so good!" She traced the addition to her picture with awe. "Now I know how to do them right. Thank you, Bria!"

With that, she threw her arms around Bria's neck, to the woman's utmost disgust and the amusement of the rest of the room. Untangling herself, she looked at Lucy straight on.

"I. Do. Not. Like. You. Got it?" she explained carefully. "You are germ-ridden, noisy, short, and you lack basic social skills. Not to mention, partly because of you, I lost my best friend to this tropical wasteland. Therefore, you and I are sworn enemies until the end of time. Do you understand?"

If Bria had meant to cower her into submission, she had missed the mark by the length of a football pitch. "Do you want to tell me my bedtime story?" Lucy asked sweetly, pressing her hands tight against Bria's cheeks, gently playing with pushing and pulling them apart. "I bet you'd be good at it. You can make your voice do funny things."

"No giving away my job, young lady." Will scooped her up before Bria could explode and perched her high on his side, kissing her forehead. "Let's get those teeth brushed and to bed with you."

"Can I have two stories please?"

"No, it's late. Just one."

"But I said please!"

"And I still said one. I'm quite the monster, aren't I?"

Lucy pouted and turned to her surrogate uncle. "Captain Jack? Make Daddy be nice to me."

"Sorry, darlin'. If I had the power to make your father do me biddin', I'd make him tell me if he knows the birthday gift your Auntie Ana picked out for me that I get to unwrap after this blasted festival of hers."

"And I've told you several times over the years that I want nothing to do with that particular gift exchange," Will said with a slight grimace.

"Why?" Elizabeth asked innocently. "What does she get you?"

"Nope," Will said as Jack turned to her. "Do not say a word to her about it. I've already warned Anamaria."

"Now, the silence in front of the spawn I understand," he argued, gesturing to Lucy, "but the lovely Lizzie is quite the grown woman, as you, dear William, can attest to personally." Jack leered at both of them, wagging his eyebrows and Elizabeth flicked the dishrag at him. "Why is she forbidden from this knowledge?"

"Because for some reason, I'd like the baby to actually meet you, something I doubt she'd let happen if she knew what you'd be unwrapping soon," Will explained, directing her an apologetic look at Jack antics.

Elizabeth bit her lip, the possibilities swirling through her mind. Her curiosity was well and truly piqued. "What if I really want to know?" she asked Will mischievously.

"Trust me," he said with a smile, shifting Lucy to the floor and scooting her to the loo, "you really don't."

 _Well, damn him! He knows I can't challenge him on trust! Not fair!_

"Maybe she really does," Jack challenged as Will started to leave the room. "Maybe she really, really does…"

"Well, if she does happen to find out by your words, I suppose I'll have to dig up those pictures from New Year's Eve eight years ago," Will called back. "There's a good number of people who would be surprised at how tantalizing you find certain barnyard animals."

For the first time since they'd met, Elizabeth detected the barest shade of blush underneath Jack's whiskers. "If I had to guess," she finally said after letting the silence linger as Jack avoided eye contact with both women, "I'd say pig? Or something with feathers?"

"Horns," he confessed with a twinkle, gathering his pride back up to full brim. "There was rum involved."

"Isn't there always with you?"

"Touché, Lady Swann." He tipped his head in farewell and kissed Bria's hand one last time. "Ta." With an overexaggerated bow, he left the house and the women alone in the kitchen.

"Your new friends are strange," Bria told her, joining her at the sink to scrub her hands and face.

"Don't say that," Elizabeth bristled, the word still highly undesirable to her, even with how well Lucy was doing lately. "And especially don't say it around Lucy if you know what's good for you."

"Aren't we the veritable little Mother Bear?" She dried her hands before patting Elizabeth's stomach. "Guess there's some use for the short one. Suppose its good practice for your own."

" **Its** name is Lucy Turner and **she's** nothing except absolute perfection," Elizabeth rebuked quietly, removing Bria's hand from her stomach. Instead of getting upset, her oldest friend could only smile maddingly at her.

"Stupid, stupid person," she whispered, poking Elizabeth square between her eyebrows. With a cheeky grin, Bria started gathering her purse together as she finished off the last of her wine.

"Are you alright to drive? I could ring you a cab."

"Lizzie, I'm Scottish." She pointed to the remnants of her glass. "This is basically slightly tangy grape juice to my palette and constitution. Again, with you being the stupid person."

"You know, some people might get a little hung up on a friend constantly alluding to their being mentally incapacitated."

"And I'm very glad you're not one of them." Elizabeth couldn't help but smile a little as she walked her out to the porch in the balmy evening. "Am I going to see you again before Friday?"

"I don't know. Are enough pastries to feed about ten thousand people over three days going to magically appear from the sky?"

Bria smirked and glanced briefly at the open door. "Listen, you just worry about making up those yummy treats and I'll worry about finding you a fabulous place to move into. I'll ring the real estate agent again tomorrow and look at some more places for you."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You don't want to help me find a flat. You just want the guy to give a thorough inspection to your 'shag carpeting'."

Bria mulled this over briefly. "Two things can be true at the same time."

"Goodnight, love." She waited until Bria was safely driving down the dirt path before going back into the house. She started slightly when she found Will in the kitchen, making himself a quick sandwich. "Hey."

"Hey," he replied, focused on spreading an ungodly amount of mustard on the bread.

She frowned. Something in his voice was off. "Lucy went down without much fight," she said, going to the living room to needlessly straighten out the couch cushions.

"Three pages and she was down for the count. New record."

"School, Sophie, and spaghetti for dinner. That was quite a day for her."

"Suppose it was."

There it was again. If she had to give it a name, it was…cool. Cold. Distant. She didn't like it at all. It reminded her of when he had been trying to land his current job. Perhaps something had happened at the shipyard.

"How was work?" Elizabeth tried to probe gently.

"Fine." His eyes didn't move from his light supper. He wasn't engaging with her and it was making her nervous. She wracked her brain to try to find out why he was throwing up walls when no more than twenty minutes ago, he had been smiling that wonderful smile of his.

"What did Nathaniel think of the renderings you drew up?"

"He liked them well enough, I guess."

"I thought they were fantastic." His lack of interest in talking to her was setting her stomach to knots and she rejoined him in the kitchen to grab some crackers to gnaw on. "I mean, I'm no expert but you really seem a quick study for naval architecture. Maybe you should take his advice and consider taking classes in Kingston."

"Yeah. Someday, maybe." He went to the table to eat and Elizabeth bit back a sigh. It was like dealing with Lucy during her teasing epidemic all over again. He wasn't giving her an inch. She rubbed her eyes, exhausted. It wasn't enough that she had had to spend the day listening to Bria flirt with the real estate agent about wainscoting and central air conditioning; now she had to try and break past whatever was bothering Will when she didn't have the first idea…

 _Brianna Morag McKendrick_ , she thought when it hit her, feeling her blood turn to venom. _You beast! You saw him behind me!_

When she wanted something, Bria was an unrelenting wrecking ball of destruction. It didn't matter that the subject of living on her own was something that gave Elizabeth chills no amount of time in the Caribbean sun would quash. Bria thought that she and Will needed to discuss her living arrangements for the future and therefore, she had forced the issue when she saw that Elizabeth couldn't even confront it on her own. It was the Penelope Danville birthday debacle all over again; only instead of Elizabeth shoving a skanky little tart into a swimming pool, she had to talk over a difficult subject with someone who had become one of the cornerstones of her world when she hadn't been looking.

Chewing slowly until the bit of cracker was dust in her mouth, her stomach fluttering, she thought of how to broach the issue: Keep pestering him with meandering questions about his day until he cracked? Badger him to admit he had been eavesdropping on her and Bria? Declare that it was time to figure out a schedule to extricate her from his everyday life?

Or should she…Could she work up the nerve…Would she be ruining everything if she…?

Should she ask him if he wanted her to leave at all? If he saw that there was any hope of being in a relationship outside their one as parents?

 _And if he stammers on, eyes on the floor, trying to let you down easy? What then?_

She swallowed heavily, cutting her thumbnail almost through the skin of her forefinger. Will's chair scrapping across the floor as he stood shook her out of her stupor and she spun around, speaking without thinking through any consequences.

"I didn't know she was taking me to look at flats," Elizabeth said to his retreating figure. "She just grabbed me and didn't tell me until we were on the ferry. I thought she was taking me shopping, which I guess she sort of was in a way." Elizabeth couldn't help but cringe at her clumsy explanation. At least it had gotten Will to stop, even if still wouldn't face her. "I just…I know you heard her and I didn't want you to think I was keeping anything from you."

"Okay," he said slowly, sitting on the arm of the couch. "Thank you for telling me."

"You don't need to be upset if you thought, um, that I was trying to sneak off or something, even though I've already taken enough of your hospitality for three lifetimes-"

"You haven't," he insisted gently, "and I'm not…I just assumed that when we talked before, when Lucy was…when you offered to go, and I told you didn't have to…" Will let out a long breath. "I just don't ever want you to feel unwelcome here is all I'm trying to say."

"Of course. And I don't feel unwelcome. Not for a second. You've been wonderful." Her initial goal taken care of, all she had left was nervous giggles. "She – Bria, I mean – is just very persistent when she wants something."

Will frowned slightly. "And she wants you out of here?"

"She probably wants me back in London, but…but that's not going to happen," she said in a rush. It couldn't; London wasn't home anymore. "I think, uh, she wants us…well, **me** actually. She wants me to start making plans for…later when…you know."

"When the baby comes," he finished with a small nod of support.

"Right," she said, trying to smile a little as her stomach kept quivering. Why was this so hard to speak about with him? It was Will. There was no one in the world with more kindness or understanding. He'd proven that in spades when it came to her. "She says I've procrastinated enough."

"Why does she think that?"

"I guess…I guess I have been putting certain things off."

"Why?"

 _Because I have to. Because I don't want to leave. Because I remember what my life was like before you and Lucy were a part of it and I never want to go back to that again._

"Because I'm scared," she admitted for the second time that day, her voice only just above a murmur.

Will's frown deepened until his eyes settled on her middle. She glanced down to find herself stroking it gently and rhythmically; her hand moved all on its own, seeking comfort from her baby without meaning to. "It's normal," he began as he came to stand in front of her, "to be feeling so anxious. I've been through it myself."

Pre-parenthood jitters. That's what he thought her fear was and he was partially right. Hadn't she just disclosed that to poor Bootstrap hours ago? Perhaps it was easier to let him think that then to delve into anything more meaningful.

After all, it was a day for half-truths.

"There were nights before Lucy came," she heard him continue, "when I'd stare up at the ceiling for hours, just trying to imagine how I was going to take care of someone else; to have someone wholly dependent on me for every part of their existence. Most of the time I couldn't make the pieces fit."

"How did you?"

"You just have to. They'll need you to and you'll do anything for them." He shrugged, smiling at her bump. "You're going to love them more than you could ever imagine. You think you do now, but when they're in your arms for the first time…everything you ever knew about the world and yourself goes out the window."

She sniffled back a pinprick of tears. It was moments like these when she remembered how lucky her child was to have Will for a father. "I'll probably be crying more than the baby," she whispered. "Corrine will have me sent to the nursery instead of him or her."

"No," he promised, rubbing her forearms, the callouses of his hands creating such friction against her skin she nearly bit through her tongue to hold back a moan. "You're going to be an amazing mother, Elizabeth Swann."

It was going to hurt later. She'd find herself teeming with self-doubt over it in the very near future, but right now she couldn't stop herself. Stepping even closer to Will, she wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder, breathing him in, that wonderful mix of sea air and warm lumber she wished she could bottle and carry with her everywhere. Slowly, ever so slowly, his arms circled her waist and held her in return, his nose nestled somewhere in her hair. It was the closest they'd been since the day he offered up his home to her and she had forgotten how much better the universe was when she was in Will's embrace. No dream or fantasy could ever capture how restful her heart felt when it was beating this close to his.

It was right.

 **She** was right when she was holding him.

 _No_ , she thought, shutting her eyes and savoring the moment, _you can do better than that. It's…It's…_

Home.

Home was always the place a person felt safest and being with Will like this, nothing could wound her.

Except it wouldn't last. Logically, she knew that and before long, she was alone in her own bed, pulling the blankets over her shoulders to ward off the chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. Soon after that, her days consisted of bounding through Dulzura's kitchen through a cloud of flour and confectionary sugar as she and the rest of the staff worked frantically to complete the seemingly endless assortment of tarts, cupcakes, brownies, and pies; add in the fillings, jams, and toppings to go along with them and Elizabeth felt as if she had gone from strolling through St. James Park to running in the London Marathon: her body was exhausted but adrenaline kept pushing her along all day and into the night, until Anamaria would try dragging her home. When Elizabeth refused to leave her work the first time, she resorted to shoving her on the futon that had suddenly appeared in her cramped office.

"Please," Anamaria rolled her eyes and laid a blanket over her friend when she asked why she had gone to the trouble. "Like Will would let my head stay attached to my body if anything ever happened to either of you."

She smiled to herself when Anamaria shut the lights off behind her. Even when he couldn't be physically near her, he made sure she and the baby were being taken care of, a fact proven again when Anamaria had her prenatal vitamins the next morning, along with a banana and one of Lucy's tiny stuffed cats to keep her company. It went on like that the rest of the week; Anamaria kept bringing her food, clothes, and small trinkets from the two of them, until the night before the festival when they appeared in the flesh, sneaking in through the back door of the kitchen. The rest of the staff had gone home earlier, with strict instructions to arrive at first light to begin moving everything over to the town square. She had been marking off the last of the full baking racks and trying to find the energy to crawl into the office when she felt Lucy's little arms around her middle.

"What are you doing here?" Elizabeth asked in surprise, stooping down to hold a pajama-clad Lucy close to her.

"Getting you anywhere else besides this kitchen." Will smiled down at them, his eyes crinkling. "If I may suggest, perhaps somewhere with a shower."

"I've been washing, There's a sink in the loo and I…" A long yawn ended her protest and she ducked her head against Lucy's neck, a bit self-conscious. "I just want everything to be perfect tomorrow."

"It will be," Lucy assured her when she pulled back, playing with the chain of Elizabeth's necklace. "You make the bestest sweets of anyone."

"Very best," her father corrected her, ruffling her hair. "Elizabeth makes the very best sweets, which is why she deserves to sleep soundly in a bed tonight before everyone on the island gets a chance to enjoy them."

"I could have made it back myself. You didn't need to drag this one out of bed," Elizabeth said, squeezing Lucy once more, finally able to realize how much she had craved her and Will both now that they were all together again.

He shrugged noncommittedly, walking towards the office as he said, "She missed you. I'll get your things together."

She turned back to Lucy and asked, "Did you? Miss me, I mean?" The girl nodded once. Unexpected guilt surged through her and she apologized. "I'm sorry. I won't stay away that long again."

"Promise?"

"I swear on every Christmas tree in the world," Elizabeth tweaked her nose, "that we won't be apart for that long again." With a smile, she started to get up when Lucy tugged on her hand.

"Elizabeth?" Lucy whispered in her ear before she could try to boost herself from the floor.

"What?"

"Do you want to know a secret?"

"Always. I want all of your secrets," Elizabeth whispered back, kissing her cheek.

Lucy grinned impishly. "Daddy kept calling Auntie Ana to try and make you come home."

"Oh really?" She rolled her eyes, long suspecting Will of badgering her poor boss behind her back. It should have made her feel chaffed and hampered instead of appreciated. It was nice to have someone that wanted to take care of her. "That was silly of him."

"Not as silly as him standing in your door and staring into your room though."

Elizabeth blinked, her heart stuttering a beat or two. "H-He did? When?"

"Lots of times. When I saw him doing it tonight, I said we should come get you."

"Really?"

Lucy nodded seriously and leaned in close again. "He doesn't like it when you're gone. He misses you."

There was no time to formulate any kind of response before Will walked back in with her bag over his shoulder and led them into the car, a peaceful quiet filling the small space. The late hour gave Elizabeth the license she needed to pretend to be sleeping all the way back to the cottage while her thoughts circled back over and over variations of the same idea:

Was her beleaguered mind, pushed and stretched to the breaking point from all her hard work, creating an illusion that didn't exist outside her desires, or was there even the slimmest chance she was finally seeing a glimpse of something Will had been trying to show her?

 _Am I stupid? Very, very stupid? Or does he…_

The click of the car door opening alerted Elizabeth to the fact that her performance of sleep had been so convincing, she had managed to doze off without knowing. With her eyes still shut and her head turned away from Will, she started to heave out of the seat when she felt him reach over her, his lean body unbearably close as he unbuckled her seatbelt. How she resisted the maddening impulse to bury her nose into his neck, she couldn't say; all she could do was try to keep still when he deftly lifted her into his arms and carried her inside the house burrowed close to his chest. A subtle peek at Lucy's door showed the door already closed, meaning she had been asleep long enough for him to get the girl resettled. Now it was her turn to be put to bed. Focusing on maintaining a slow, steady breath, Elizabeth felt herself eased down onto the mattress and out of habit, she turned to her side, pressing her cheek to the pillow and waited for the door to shut after him so she could relive every wonderful second of being held by him.

Only he didn't leave right away. With great care, she felt himself sit down on the bed behind her and her stomach tightened in breathless anticipation. What was he doing? What did she **want** him to do? Why wasn't she offended or scared in the slightest? He was in her room watching her sleep and instead of taking affront for violating her privacy, as she would with nearly anyone else, she couldn't bring herself to feel anger. After all, when it was Will, there were no rules of how she should behave or think; he never had any expectations of who she should be. He let her be herself. He never tried to change her in any way.

He was wholly different from the other notable man in her life.

When Father's face entered her mind, a cold wave washed over, dousing the trickles of desire beginning to flame. Thoughts of him as of late only served to fill her with a swell of confusion and anger more potent than any nausea from her first trimester. Every letter she had sent him since leaving England had been given no reply and she hadn't had the heart to try and ring him in fear of hearing disappointment from his own voice. Bria had no news from him, not even a mention of seeing him at a dinner party and asking about her; he probably still hadn't told anyone in their social circle that she was pregnant. Whatever pangs of hopelessness or doubt that she carried with her regarding her situation with Will couldn't compare to the pain that encompassed her when she truly let her father's rejection of her and her choices sink in. He had been the bedrock of her world since her mother's death, as any parent should be for their child; yet, at the first sign of her true entrance into adulthood – becoming a parent herself – he had offered her no support or acceptance. Granted, the circumstances were far from ideal, but still…

She was his daughter.

Why couldn't he forgive her?

 _Forgive me for what?_ Anger overtook her pain, her hand fisting underneath the pillow and her thoughts turning inward to the little life safe under her heart. _For having you? That's not something that should require forgiveness. You're perfection, Shelf, nothing except absolute perfection. No one has any right to –_

Her reflections stilled. Her breath stilled. The entire world stilled as a hand not her own slowly laid over her belly, resting on top of her child. Trying not to tremble, she opened her eyes a fraction, hoping not to catch him looking at her, but she needn't have worried: Will's attention was solely on her stomach.

It was the first time he had touched her there. Ever since her bump had sprouted, her hand was practically bonded with it, eager to feel any minute sense of growth or any stirrings that, according to her pregnancy books, should be coming at any time. Despite her stated lack of interest in children, Bria certainly wasn't shy about touching her belly and in quiet moments, Lucy had asked if she could feel her future sibling. Everyone in their makeshift band of pirates seemed to have taken a turn saying hello to the newest member of the group the past few weeks; hell, even Jack had given her stomach an affectionate if reluctant pat at dinner one evening, Mr. Gibbs snickering in the background. Everyone, that is, except for Will.

Until now.

Every day, she wanted to pull his hand to her, to let him feel what they had created underneath his fingertips, to let him feel the true physical proof of **them** and their time together. Every day, she worked hard to tamp the instinct down. She had taken from him more than she could ever repay already. It wasn't right to force him into things he wasn't ready for.

Only looking at him now, it was hard to remember which of them wasn't ready.

Through hooded eyes, she watched as his fingers ever so gently caressed her through her thin shirt. While she had longed for his touch for what seemed like a lifetime, her desire was a distant second to the joy she felt bursting inside her as Will continued to look down at their baby. It was a look she was familiar with after spending all this time with him, for it was the exact same way that he looked at Lucy whenever he saw her or talked about her or even thought of her:

Adoring. Revering. Blissfully happy. Affection was imprinted across every square inch of his handsome face.

Her baby would never need to beg or plead or pray for forgiveness from Will because Will would never cut this child out of his life over a perceived error in judgment or a misstep. This baby would always know how much their father treasured them and it was that realization that shattered every last bit of denial she had tried to cloak herself in.

All too soon, his hand left her and she shut her eyes tightly, trying desperately to keep the moisture inside them until he eased away from the bed and finally left the room. Once she heard the latch click into place, she buried her head into her pillow, sobbing as quietly as she could until sleep granted her a reprieve.

A small bit of shifting in the bed was the first thing that brought her back to the land of the living. The windows were open, allowing the gentle murmur of waves to greet her to the morning but it wasn't until she registered the feel of sunlight on her skin, something she rarely felt anymore when she opened her eyes, that she truly woke up with a gasp.

"I'm late!"

"Aye, we went over that in my kitchen a couple of months ago," she heard Bria say from beside her, eyes on the magazine she was rifling through as she laid in bed with her. When Elizabeth tried to get up, it was Bria's firm hand that kept her in place. "You're staying put, Lizzie. Don't even try."

"I have to get to-"

"Even if you somehow made it out of this room, Anamaria isn't letting you near the café or the festival setup until later this afternoon. You need a break, whether you like it or not."

"But the food needs-"

"To be transported over and she has a very capable staff that will do just that, in addition to arranging all the tables and accoutrements for this shindig. Everything is covered and will be ready for you when the festival starts tonight."

"It's Lucy's last day at school. I have-"

"Your practitioner of prehistoric midwifery is getting the nuisance and bringing her here, where she will do a quick exam to make sure that you and the bairn are good to go." The glossy pages flicked away in reply to Elizabeth's attempts to argue. "I win, you lose. Accept your lot and enjoy my company. I'll run you a bath later in that thimble-sized tub of his."

She sighed, trying to calm her racing heart. "I hate you sometimes."

"Don't blame me for your imprisonment. This was all Sexy Bar Man's idea."

"It was?"

"Uh-huh. In this rare instance, he and I happened to be in agreement. Don't get used to it." At the mention of Will, her epiphany from hours ago struck again with full force and she sunk back onto the bed, pulling the covers around her to try and hide, but Bria's hand was quick to snatch the blanket away from her face. "You want to tell me what you were crying yourself to sleep over last night?"

"Nothing," she lied quietly, her throat raw, wiping at her eyes and hoping that Will hadn't snuck in again this morning to see the state she must have been in.

"Lizzie…."

"I don't want to."

"Yet you think that matters to me."

"Brianna, I'm not doing this."

"Tell me what's wrong."

"I can't." Instead of pushing her, Bria smoothed the hair away from her forehead, stroking her slowly and pulling out her phone. "Who are you calling?"

"Andre, the real estate agent. Decent enough shag that I saved his number."

"Ugh, I don't want-"

"I'm going to see what he has in **my** price range down here," she said forcefully, skimming through her contacts. "Because, apparently, you need more hands-on watching than I thought and since I'm on a bit of sabbatical, I might as well-"

"Bria," Elizabeth whispered, turning eyes that must have held such melancholy onto her friend that, for once in their lives, Bria relented and put the phone down. "Please…"

Bending down with a sigh, she placed a long kiss on Elizabeth's head. "You're my best girl and I'm not giving up on you," she vowed, her embrace offering enough solace from Elizabeth's distress that she found she could give her a small smile. "I'll never give up on you."

She wouldn't. She never would, unlike other people Elizabeth knew. People she was actually related to by blood.

The loud growling of her stomach pulled them apart and Bria lifted herself from the bed. "I'll fix you some breakfast," she said, helping Elizabeth prop up against the headboard. "Give my goddaughter a decent batch of French toast."

"He's a boy," Elizabeth insisted again, cradling the baby.

"Nope." Bria bent towards the bump. "You're a girl. No pecker for you. With your lineage, God knows what you'd do with it. You'd probably make your mum a nan before she's forty." She expertly dodged the pillow Elizabeth tried to whack her with and scuttled out of the room. In the silence, Elizabeth found no escape from the night before and her stomach flipped involuntarily.

 _It's…It's fine_ , she thought, shutting her eyes and trying to calm her nerves. _It shouldn't be such a shock. Bria said it before I flew out here. It's natural, even. I don't know why it took this long. I did move all the way to another country to-_

Another flutter, this one sharper, made her gasp for the second time that morning, this time in amazement. Picking up a dogged-eared copy of _First Time Motherhood and You_ from her bedside table, she raced through the pages until she found the passage she was looking for and reread it repeatedly until she had it memorized. A grin of genuine delight overpowered her as she sat the book aside and laid a hand back on her stomach.

"Hi," she whispered down to the baby. On pins and needles, she waited until she felt it again. Corrine had told her a baby's first movements felt different to everyone and now that she knew what it was, she thought it felt like a tiny tickle against the inside of her, brushing her softly as growing limbs stretched in their confines. A few minutes later, her patience was rewarded, and she put a hand over her mouth to keep the burst of joyous laughter contained. She didn't want to alert Bria. For all her friend was to her, this wasn't something she wanted to share with her first.

She wanted Will here. Her fingers itched to pick up the phone and call him, but the idea of not being able to see his face when she told him of this milestone killed the urge quickly. She wanted them to be together when he heard.

She wanted them to be together always.

Because she loved him.

She didn't deserve Will Turner. Someone like her – a pampered, spoiled Daddy's girl that had never dared to let anyone get too close and had never supported herself until she was almost a quarter century old – wasn't worthy of a man filled with such goodness; one that never shied away from helping others, often at the expense of himself, and who could have had any woman he wanted, if he wasn't already so focused on loving his daughter. By some miracle, he had been attracted to her enough that night at the Pearl and he had blessed her with the baby that was helping her grow into a better version of herself every day as it grew inside of her. He was teaching her how to be an adult and a parent, letting her know the amazing little girl he had already gifted the world with, and letting her know a simpler life than the one of privilege she had been born into, a life she had never known how much she wanted until she was living it.

Will was everything to her. If she lost him…If her love scared him, if it wasn't something he wanted from her, and took him away from the baby…

Swallowing, the smile slipped from her face and she rubbed her child, steeling her resolve. Her baby came first. That's what good parents did. They put their children's needs before their own.

"I won't tell him," she swore to the flutters, hoping that meant they agreed with her. "He…He loves you very much already. I won't let you two be apart."

Her love would be her burden to bear, not Will's.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Hello! This one took a little lonmger than I wanted to perfect, but I'm finally happy with where it ended up. Hopefully, you guys are as well. I think this will be the last update until after the New Year so I hope everyone has a happy holidays! Please let me know what you think if you have the time and forgive any errors you find. Thank you!**

* * *

The space in the town center was alive with joy. A rainbow of paper lanterns and colored lights hung from every building, many people adorned with beads and vibrant kaftans as they laughed in merriment at the revelry around them, enjoying the company they kept while dining on an eclectic mix of street food the numerous food stands provided. Various bands of differing ages and skill were playing on any space of sidewalk not occupied by throngs of people gyrating along to whatever beat grabbed them. Music and dance were the highlight of Junkanoo, a celebration recognizing the end of slavery that dated back hundreds of years ago. It was so popular in their part of the Caribbean that different islands celebrated Junkanoo at different times of the year to spread out the massive crowds that flocked to the region to partake in the festivities. Arbor Bay's fell at the start of summer season, when the tourists began coming in droves, which meant their small community would be quite packed for the near future. And truth be told, Will had never himself been a huge fan of the weekend-long party. He had always been someone happier to be sitting around a quiet beach campfire at nighttime with a few select friends instead of shuffling his way through crowds of people, the echoes of metal drums ringing in his ears for hours afterwards. Still, it made his daughter happy and to see Lucy smiling, like she was now, he'd do far worse things in this world than while away the coming twilight with a bunch of strangers.

It was, in fact, that bright smile that had him spending money to toss a ball at milk cans just to win a cheap, oversized stuffed frog. With Lucy and some of his mates cheering him on, he finally got his daughter's prize and she beamed up at him, pushing his heart to the point of exploding. He didn't know how much longer he'd get to be her hero and he wanted to soak up every drop. Especially now that, thanks to Hank and the promise of a steadier income, he could afford some of the little luxuries they had had to sacrifice before.

"So what's his name, Miss Lucy?" Gibbs asked her as their small group made their way away from the games, through the square and to the fabled dessert buffet that Elizabeth had been planning for a month.

Lucy chewed thoughtfully on her pretzel and studied the green monstrosity under her arm. "Bertie," she finally declared. "Short for Bertram."

"Ah," the older man said in embellished admiration while he shrugged his shoulders in confusion at Will over her head, Pintel and Ragetti sniggering behind them. "A fine moniker for your new friend."

"Thank you!" She blew him a sloppy kiss and they all laughed, ever charmed by her as they had all been since she was baby.

Will was smoothing a hand down her long hair when Jack leaned in close to him, the stench of liquor on his breath almost potent enough to water Will's eyes. "Say, whelp? We aren't allowin' her any input into the name of the new wee one, are we?"

"No," Will assured him. "I don't get any either, though. Apparently, Elizabeth already has it picked out."

"And that don't worry you none? What if she gives your boy a name that would make pansies pity him?"

They were close enough to line of tables – piled high with sweets like mango tarts, coconut and passionfruit crumble, and miniature molten chocolate cakes topped with candied orange slices – to make out Anamaria and Elizabeth ahead of them. Even as throngs of people moved slowly down along the length, sampling bites of pastry and pudding, it was easy to spot both women: Elizabeth was trying to serve people as efficiently as possible with the rest of the staff of Dulzura, a sweet smile gracing her face while Anamaria was busy either taking pictures of the event or pointing to Elizabeth and lavishing what looked like bountiful praise on her star baker, all of it deserved. Will knew how hard she had pushed herself for this event and judging by how fast the platters had to be refilled, her work was greatly appreciated.

"I think it's a girl," Will heard himself say to Jack, feeling his mouth curl upward as he watched her playfully shake off Anamaria's arm from her shoulder, "and I trust her."

"Trust, eh?" Jack elbowed him lightly in the ribs. "Is that what you kids are callin' it these days?"

Lucy tugged on his arm before he could reply. "Daddy, can we go see Elizabeth?"

"Sweetheart, she's busy taking care of everyone right now. We can say hello later."

"But I hardly got to see her today," she whined, sticking out her lower lip for good measure. "And she needs to meet Bertie."

Will smiled but held firm. "She'll see him later. Besides, you've got about a thousand bites left of that pretzel before you can get a treat for dessert."

The fall from hero to villain was swift in a child's mind. With a long-suffering sigh, she turned her sights on Gibbs. "Can you please take me to see the man with the baby alligator again? I'd ask Daddy, but he's not nice anymore."

"Of course," Gibbs told her after he received Will's nod of approval, leading her away, with Pintel and Raggetti arguing nonsensically as they followed into the crowd. "Do you know I once fell asleep on a fishing boat off the coast of Florida and woke up in a swamp? Blasted gators would've had me for breakfast if I hadn't…"

Will was still laughing at the mesmerized look on his daughter's face as she hung on Gibbs's every word when Elizabeth briefly caught his eye. He waved jovially at her; however instead of returning it, she simply smiled politely and averted her gaze as quickly as possible. To the world, she was seemingly trying to keep her focus on her work, but Will knew differently, and his spirit sank as his fears were confirmed, frowning and silently cursing his selfish stupidity.

He had simply been trying to put her to bed for a restful sleep last night. His intentions had been purely honorable as he crossed the threshold of her room, even with Elizabeth's soft breath against his neck driving him to distraction. Not that she was to blame in the least. This one was squarely on Will's shoulders. He just hadn't been able to help himself. Letting her slide out of his arms into her own bed had been damn near impossible; trying to fight the urge to finally lay his hand on their child was asking too much, especially after restraining himself all these weeks from doing so, for fear of making Elizabeth uncomfortable. Knowing the risk he was taking, he watched helplessly as she curled on her side and nestled her body into the mattress, her stomach all but beckoning him to come and say hello. Waiting for a moment to make sure she was asleep, he sat down and laid a slightly shaking palm on her midsection, immediately biting back a laugh of delight at the firm, rounded skin he could feel through her shirt.

 _There you are_ , he had thought in wonder, imaging his arm the line that could connect his musings to his unborn daughter. _I'm your dad. There's…There's a lot I want to tell you, but not now. Your mum needs her rest. Just keep growing in there, safe and sound, so we can meet in person, okay?_

Somehow, he had found the strength to leave her, every cell in his body begging him to lay down and pull them both to him. He had hoped that her dogged commitment to her work that days prior would have worn Elizabeth down enough so she hadn't noticed his presence, but of course it hadn't. Not with his luck. Now, she thought him some freakish pervert that wanted to maul her at all hours of the day.

Seeing her use a dishtowel to gently dab a bit of sweat off her collarbone, his body's reaction told him she wasn't too far off the mark. Groaning, he turned away before he could embarrass himself.

"Why so glum, chum?" Jack asked, steering him towards a nearby row of picnic tables close enough to smell the sweet aromas from the buffet and parking them at an empty one. "Trouble in PG-rated paradise?" His disdainful glare did little to dissuade the older man. "Ho, ho! Looks like Uncle Jackie was right regardin' complications about sharin' quarters with the fairer sex."

"Sod off."

Jack smirked and took a swill from his flask of rum. "Told you you'd regret movin' her in with you."

"I don't," Will denied at once. "Not for a second. It's just…"

"Complicated?" Jack offered unhelpfully, wagging his eyebrows.

Will scowled and pointed to the flask. "Please drink that a bit faster, won't you? Some of us are quite eager for the cirrhosis to kick in."

"Well, if it did, young Master Turner, you'd be quite bereft; for who would you then go to for advice over your quandaries with the Lady Swann?"

"And I should take advice from you because…?"

"I've lived with a woman for near ten years now and she lets me see her naked," he explained matter-of-factly, raising his drink in a toast towards Anamaria's direction.

 _Damn him!_

Feeling his neck redden, Will studied the scored wood until he found the courage to ask, "So, if I wanted it, what would you tell me?"

"Somethin' simple. Tried and true throughout the history of mankind." Jack paused to polish off the last of his rum with a smack of his lips before he said, "Shag her."

"Jack…"

"Just shag her. Take her home, put the wee one to bed, and bend your bonny lass over the kitchen table."

"This, for the record, is why I don't ask you for advice."

"My plan's brilliant, unless we are to assume that your, quite frankly, blatant hunger for her abates the more this pregnancy goes on." His leer bordered on lecherous. "How's your appetite been lately?"

"Again, sod off," Will told him, running a tired hand over his face, grateful his back was to Elizabeth. Bit by bit, the more she slowly grew along with their baby, the more his libido waged an all-out war with his conscious. There was just something about seeing her now; that tiny little bump she sported so gracefully was an inescapable reminder of their incredible time together. He remembered all the ways he had had her that night and how a part of him had kept hoping that the sun wouldn't start to rise with the morning, so he'd never have to let her go. That bump told him, however foolheartedly it seemed, that there had been an instance when she had wanted **him** , just Will, as a man and not the father of her child.

It was proof that – for however brief a time – Elizabeth had been his

Jack winked when Will answered him with only silence, very proud of himself. "Ravenous, I see. Go shag that pretty woman rotten. All your problems shall disappear, my friend."

Will shook his head, unable to stop his chuckle. "You're daft."

"No, that would be you. A gorgeous, fiery woman, who we already know from past experience is willin' to let you climb on top of her, sleeps literal feet away from you every night and yet, your sheets grow colder still. Tell me how erudite that makes you feel."

"It's not like that," Will explained, trying to ignore his blood heating at the images Jack's words were invoking. "She's…I mean, **we're** not interested in anything like that. We're just friends. That's as complicated as it can be."

"Ah, you'd think that, wouldn't you? But what happens when the delectable Lady McKendrick finally finds her dear friend suitable lodgin' and she's no longer torturing you under your own roof? Or better still, several months from now, when the new lass or lad makes their grand entrance?" His dark eyes turned serious. "I know you, William. Convince me that you won't lose your sanity havin' to go days in between seein' your newborn babe."

The twist in his gut almost made him wince and he let out a deep breath to ease it. The notion of not seeing Elizabeth's sparkling smile every day was disturbing enough, but not being able to wake up to his child's happy gurgling over the baby monitor or hold her close after a feeding or stand over her crib to watch her sleep would be unchecked agony. It made him want to rip his hair out just imagining it; the reality would be tenfold.

"What can I do?" Will asked after a long moment. The noise and merriment surrounding them was nonexistent. He was merely a boy again, sitting at a table with Jack, eating beans and toast, and asking the man what would become of his life.

Only he stood to lose so much more this time if he made a mistake.

"Well," Jack began, folding his hands as if in deep thought, "my tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature leads me to believe that, perhaps, in this instance, she might appreciate knowing how you actually feel about her before she makes any drastic decisions."

"Look, even if I did…feel something deeper for her-"

"If! If, he says!"

"-it wouldn't matter." His eyes followed his nail tracing the grain of the wood. "She doesn't want anything more from me."

"And how have we arrived at that particular conclusion?"

"It's been weeks, Jack. We've been with each other every day. I know she gives herself ten extra minutes to leave the house because she can never find her keys; I know she starts humming whenever she's reading something; I know she keeps writing to her father, even though the bastard doesn't deserve it, and I know that no matter how many times I've tried to get her to let me in, to let me…" He shrugged, defeated. "I can't get her to open up to me."

"Aye, I see. Well, that proverbial nut seems much trickier to crack. Perhaps amorous relations are not the path to tread." Jack nodded to himself before he started as if something had just occurred to him. "Say, you never did tell me: how did Elizabeth react to findin' out Bootstrap was your old man?"

A spike of anger shot through him imagining which of his friends – his family – had betrayed him by letting it slip. "Excuse me? What are you -?"

"Ah ha! So she doesn't know then?"

"Of course not. Why would I tell her-?"

"That's a funny thing, isn't it, with you wantin' her to be so forthcomin' to you about her innermost thoughts and feelings and all while **you** get to pick and choose what to share with her."

Will frowned in annoyance. "It's not the same."

"How'd you figure?"

"Because it's bad enough that she came here knowing I was a cad that took out his frustrations with random club hookups," he began, almost shuddering at what Elizabeth must have thought of him; it couldn't be nearly as disgusting as what he had thought of himself. "I don't want to give her any other reasons to doubt her decision by introducing the alcoholic scoundrel her child's going to share genetics with, especially when he's just going to drift away and disappear for a year or two soon."

"He hasn't drifted too far away lately," Jack pointed out. "He's come back more and more since he's gotten sober."

"It won't last. It never does with him."

Jack smiled grimly, always amazed at the younger man's propensity for belief in the good of most people, except when it came to his own father. "It must be nice livin' in a world of absolutes: Bootstrap will never change, so you won't even make an effort to forgive him; Lucy will never accept you in a relationship, so you wouldn't ever put yourself out there; and Elizabeth – the woman who left unimaginable wealth and comfort to come to this amoeba of a rock to raise her child with you – can't be trusted to separate the man Bootstrap was from the man you are today, so you decide to lie by omission in an attempt to give her reasons not to doubt you."

He didn't remember when it occurred to him exactly, but Will was convinced ages ago that Jack could easily rule the world if he ever sobered up long enough. The wannabe pirate's words resonated throughout his mind, pinging around and against Will's own. Not about Bootstrap; Will had concluded years earlier that there was no room for rational thought when it came to him. What Jack had said about Elizabeth, though, gave him pause. Was that why she was holding herself back from him, because a part of her sensed that, as welcoming as he thought he had been since her arrival, he still had his walls up? Could the key to breaking past hers be shattering his own? It seemed plausible. There were times when he thought he could see in her eyes that something was struggling to come out and be heard. Maybe she needed him to take that first step.

But what if seeing the real him, the scared child who held those he loved almost too close for fear he'd lose them forever that lived deep beneath the shell of his adulthood, destroyed whatever small modicum of faith she might have in him? What if it put her off enough that she finally confirmed his worst fears and fled?

How would he survive losing her and their baby?

How would Lucy survive losing Elizabeth in her life?

"Why is he looking so morose?" An unwanted but familiar voice rang in his ears and Will bit back a sigh as Bria slithered next to Jack, keeping herself plastered to his side, leaning in close to whisper deviously, "Oh no, did he manage to impregnate someone else before he came here tonight?"

Jack laughed uproariously at Bria's audaciousness while Will struggled to keep his temper in check. Throughout her seemingly endless visit, he'd had to endure all manner of comments from her on subjects ranging from his home ("Hovels would look at this place and weep") to his furniture ("It's sweet that you let blind people decorate this little shack") to his car ("Why don't you put the poor thing out of its misery?") to the innumerable ways she insulted his daughter; as Lucy, for whatever reason, adored her and paid her no mind, Will let those slide, but Bria's underlining message was made abundantly clear. As it happened, Will agreed with her completely:

He wasn't good enough for Elizabeth.

This remote island town, the house they lived in, his whole life in general was something less than what she deserved. It was a fact he had accepted long ago. What the unrelenting Scotswoman failed to notice was how hard he had been working to rise above what he had now; to give Elizabeth, Lucy, and the baby more. It might not be a manor house in the English countryside or a high-rise overlooking London, but it would be something that he earned himself, not something he had been handed. He could only hope that meant more to Elizabeth than it did to her friend. And as overbearing as Bria McKendrick had been since her arrival, it was easy to see how much she adored Elizabeth and how much she meant to Elizabeth in return. It was why, despite her determination to get him to do so, he couldn't hate her.

Although she did seem to enjoy testing his resolve, especially when she was in Jack's company.

"Dear William is in deep contemplation over the state of his affairs, true, but let us move on to more pleasant conversation," Jack said to her. "For instance, how are you enjoyin' the fine hospitality of our little fine and fancy to-do?"

If possible, she moved closer to him, her red hair brushing close to his cheek as she pouted. "Well, it's positively dreadful. I've been here for ten whole minutes and I haven't found a handsome man to buy me a drink yet."

He placed a loud, lingering kiss on her hand and Will felt nausea settle low in stomach. "Captain Jack Sparrow shall remedy that at once, m'lady," he said, bowing to her as he stood to retrieve her something potent. Immediately, she pulled out her phone and stared into the screen, flicking through it and letting Will sit in an ever-growing awkward silence that he finally had to break.

"Thank you, again, for sitting with Elizabeth earlier. I really am grateful that…" The derisive snort she gave him made clear that his gratitude hadn't been a factor and he shut his mouth. It struck him then that this was the first time in her weeks here that they were truly alone. Elizabeth was usually there as a buffer. She and Bria almost had their own private language when they spoke, thanks to all their years together.

The thought gave Will an idea. More than likely, she'd probably rebuff him, but this might also be a chance to gain a small bit of insight into the woman that had so upended his world. He'd have to tread carefully, though, and offer up some rather false platitudes that Bria probably wouldn't buy for a second.

 _Good thing she already hates you then_ , he thought, steadying himself.

"So," he began with an overly-pleasant smile, "have you had a good visit so far?"

Without taking her eyes off her phone, she replied, "Please don't do this. You'll embarrass yourself."

"Do what?"

"Be nice and polite before you start flattering me about what a wonderful friend I am to Lizzie, and how glad you are that she's had me here as a balm from home, and how you'd like to do more for her, but she's just so skittish about being personal with you that you'd hope, for her sake, that because I know her better than the back of my hand, I'd give you some answers on the test." She started typing out a text as Will sat there, agape. "About right?"

 _Wonderful! She's annoying to boot and now she's psychic. How much longer until she climbs back on her broom for London?_

"Um, look I wasn't…I wasn't trying to…" Flummoxed, he could only shake his head. "How the hell did you know that?!"

"Because," she said with a small smile, "unlike some people on this island, I am decidedly **not** a stupid person. Truthfully, I am just a lawyer who's paid quite well to argue and get information from people, hence I am good at reading them and you, Sexy Bar Man, have almost as terrible of a poker face as Lizzie does."

"Well, I just…wait, 'Sexy Bar Man'?"

"Aye, that's what I call you most of the time."

"I-I have a proper name. I'm not sure I appreciate-"

"Then you can probably imagine how much I appreciated you having unsafe sex with my best girl and altering the course of her entire life." Bria said blithely, still focused on her phone.

So that was how it was going to be. Logically, he couldn't hold her anger against her. Everything she said was true. His only concern in the bedroom over the Pearl had been to feel Elizabeth's body around him in every position imaginable, not about protecting her in any way. If a man had done that to Anamaria, he knew his reaction would have been markedly more violent than Bria's; that she had restrained herself to cutting remarks and scowls this whole time was a testament to her self-control. However, no matter how justified her loathing of him was, he wouldn't nail himself to the cross over it.

"I'm not sorry it happened," he said slowly. She gave no indication she heard him, but he continued, "I'm sorry that Elizabeth has sacrificed so much, including seeing you all the time, but you'll never be able to make me feel guilty about that night. I love that baby more and more every single day. There's nothing anyone could say or do to make me wish her unmade."

Finally, deliberately, her sharp eyes met his for a long moment, studying him as the moon rose above them and the festival began bringing in more revelers, the noise hovering around the invisible bubble they had built for themselves. "You do know that Lizzie thinks the bairn's a boy," she eventually said.

"Yeah, well, I just think it'd be nice for Lucy to have a little sister." He smiled, pleased that they could speak of something pleasant. "Girls aren't all that scary."

Her answering smile was less sweet and far more predatory. "We really are, but then again, if I was a man with your kind of daddy issues, I'd probably find the idea of a son terrifying too."

He might as well be whirling around on a carnival ride with the breakneck pace his head was getting whipped around in this conversation. "W-What do you…?"

"Nice guy, your dad is. Lizzie seems like she's taken a shine to him. Something about you Turners that just melts her heart." At his staggered expression, she laughed a bit. "Don't fret, I'm not a bloody mind reader. None of your friends blabbed or anything, and you can rest assured that she won't be finding out who that friendly old man crashing at Jack's really is from my luscious lips. Contrary to popular belief, I actually do know when to hold my tongue. This is something she should hear from you. Not that I won't enjoy it a little when it blows up in your face."

Will had no interest in hearing what would bring her joy. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Elizabeth was paying them no mind, too absorbed in making sure the people of Arbor Bay had their collective sweet tooth satisfied, as he leaned in close to harshly whisper, "What kind of fucking game are you playing?"

"Such language in front of a lady," she mocked gasped, leaning in with him. "I have half a mind to tell-"

"How do you know about Bootstrap?"

"Funny name, that is. How'd he get it? Some weird fetish thing?"

"Bria, what the hell do you think you know about me?!"

"Everything." Her eyebrow – perfectly plucked and trimmed – arched, her eyes narrowed, and she continued, "Did you honestly believe I would just let the person I love more than anything in this world move in with a stranger who excels at one-night stands with bar trollops? Never in a million years, unless I knew she'd be safe with you. Which is why I ran a thorough background check on you before I let her get on that plane."

 _Fucking A_ , he thought, his head well and truly spinning now at being a subject to such an invasion of privacy. He might as well be sitting in front of her starkers. _The pair of brass ones on her! She's…She's…Hang on. She_ _ **did**_ _let her get on the plane. She saw all the bad bits of me that I've been trying to keep from Elizabeth and she still let her come. Does that mean…?_

"So, I guess I wasn't that scary then, was I?" At her frowning silence, he fortified himself with false confidence and clarified, "If you let Elizabeth move down here, then that means that there wasn't anything particularly scary. There's nothing that showed I would ever treat her unkindly or put her safety in jeopardy-"

"Now someone who's seen as much time in a police station as you have shouldn't be making those assumptions."

"That was years ago. I was an angry kid and I outgrew it." He smirked slightly, expectantly, when she had no retort. "You know I'm not a terrible guy. You've watched me like a hawk since you got here. I may not be a duke or a banker raking in cash by the hour, but I'm not a monster. Right?"

They stared each other down, neither giving an inch, until the redhead's nose scrunched slightly in distaste. "I suppose there are those who believe it would be reasonable to infer that," Bria ultimately admitted, begrudgingly, rolling her thin phone between her fingers. Just as Will's shoulders started to relax, assured that on some level Elizabeth's best friend trusted him to take care of her, Bria's eyes left him, along with any sense of standing he felt had won back in their battle. "Except, I do have one question."

"Just one?"

"Well, it's a humdinger of a question, so we'll count it for eight."

"What is it then?"

For the first time since they had met, Bria looked to him with what Will could only describe as sympathy and he tried, unsuccessfully, to brace himself. "Why didn't you go through with Lucy's adoption?" Bria asked him.

His lungs forgot their function for a quick second, but he recovered with a shaking breath, his hand gripping the wood tightly to hold himself back from punching it through the table. He tried never to think about that horrific time when he had almost altered the course of his own life and Lucy's, let alone discuss it with someone who was basically a stranger to him.

"How did you…?" Will managed to ask without his voice cracking.

"My specialty is family law. I know what the paperwork to terminate parental rights looks like."

"I never signed them," Will said adamantly.

"You still had them drawn up. There's still records. They don't disappear just because you changed your mind."

"Don't do that," he almost growled, furious that she was dredging all this back up, but not nearly as furious as he still was with himself. "Don't you dare make it seem like I was returning a television or some bullshit like that. You have no idea what making that decision was like for me."

"So explain it to me."

"Why? What the hell does something I almost did six years ago mean to the here and now?"

"Because as you pointed out, my best girl sacrificed a lot to come here, for **you** , and if there is even a chance in one million that you're going to get scared and run off on her and that child, then I-"

Will stood suddenly with enough force to shake the table. Taking a deep breath to collect himself, he bent down until his nose was almost touching Bria's, the woman not backing away, the fire in her eyes matching his own. "You can think whatever the hell you want about me," he began, his voice low and dangerous. "You can think that I'm uncivilized. You can think I'm beneath your time and energy. You can insult and degrade everything that I've worked every moment of my adult life to earn, but you will understand one thing, Lady McKendrick: I will never, **ever** abandon either of my children and I won't tolerate anyone who implies that I would."

He nearly ran Jack and the man's two huge novelty daiquiris over as he turned and stalked far away, ignoring Jack's attempts to call him back. Deep down, he knew that there was no chance he would ever strike a woman, yet the temptation had been so strong with Bria just now that he felt like fleeing was the safest option for them both.

Once again, he briefly caught Elizabeth's eye as she continued serving. This time, he was the one that looked away when he saw the look of concern marring her lovely face. For the first time since they had met, Will had no desire to drink in her beauty. He had more pressing needs as he fought his way through the crowd, fighting against memories inside his head that he had long tried to suppress…

 _The overhead ceiling fan rotated loudly, but Lucy was apparently sleeping through it, nary a peep coming from her carrier where it sat beside him on the plush beige carpet. The sun-filled office he was sitting in was the nicest one Will could ever remember being in, but he imagined Mr. Cullum, the lawyer he was meeting with, made a far more decent living than Will could. In fact, he knew it for sure. That lack of income was, after all, one of the main reasons he was in this office to begin with._

 _He hated being here._

 _He hated_ _ **himself**_ _for being here._

 _He especially hated, though, that he had his daught-_

" _Stop thinking of her like that," he ordered himself in a whisper, bowing his head and looking anywhere else except that carrier. "Just sign the papers when he comes back, hand her over, and get out of here."_

 _It had been his mantra for weeks now, almost since the moment he had come home to find Lucy alone and screaming in her crib, a hastily scribbled note from Rebecca sitting on the bedside table. She'd left her to Will, knowing that he'd do what was best for her._

 _Even if it meant saying goodbye so she could have a chance at a better life than he could give her._

 _Except he hadn't yet. Said his goodbyes, that is. Throughout the back and forth calls with Mr. Cullum, to packing up her few belongings from the house, to watching Jack and Anamaria kiss her one last time before he had boarded the ferry to Kingston an hour ago with her; he had hardly been able to look at the baby, let alone speak to her. Yet even louder than the blasted ceiling fan, the grandfather clock's ticking from the corner pounded like cannon fire to Will's ears, urging him to say his piece while there was still time; while Lucy was still Lucy, before her new parents took her away and changed everything about her._

 _Swallowing past the boulder in his throat, he picked up the plastic seat and sat it on the desk in front of him, taking off the blanket that shielded Lucy from view. Contrary to his belief, she was wide awake and blinked at the brightness of the room, her face scrunching adorably in distaste, breaking Will's heart even as he smiled. She really was the most beautiful thing in the world._

" _This is what's best for you," he said softly to her, voice trembling, his gaze focused on the soft sleeper she wore. "I-I'm only nineteen and I can't…I can't give you all the things that you'll need. Not the stupid things, like toys and all that muck, but…but a real home, a family with a-a-a father and mother. I know what its like to only…to not have…I didn't want that for you." Her tiny lips smacked a few times and Will couldn't help trailing a finger down her little snub nose. "I tried to make your mum stay, to help her get better for you. It just didn't work. She wasn't strong enough. So…So now you're going to go somewhere else where you'll get a mum who loves you more than anything. She'll pick you up from school, she'll do your hair all pretty, and maybe she'll even sing you to sleep at night." The lone tear slipped down his cheek and he squeezed his eyes shut to stem the rest before he went on, "I will never stop loving you. You're always going to be right here, sweetheart." He tapped his aching chest. "This is always going to belong to you and only you."_

 _She gurgled in reply and he bent to kiss her forehead, taking in one last breath of her scent to tuck away for the long days ahead. As he tried to straighten up, her hand shot out and grabbed a loose lock of his hair, giving it a sharp tug. Trying to untangle it, he finally dared to look at her straight on and froze in shock._

 _Those eyes – his late mother's eyes – stared back at him beseechingly, begging silently with a message Will heard as if she were screaming it:_

" _Don't leave me."_

 _How many times had he looked at Bootstrap like that when he was a child? How many times had he said the words out loud when he could speak? How often, when the drunk crawled out of his bottle long enough to sail to Arbor Bay, did Will begrudgingly think the words to himself, even at the times they were screaming at each other?_

 _How could he inflict upon his daughter the same wounds that had never healed for him?_

 _Everyone would say Lucy wasn't cognizant enough to understand abandonment, but Will knew that she knew him: knew his voice, his touch, his heartbeat that she had fallen asleep over more often than she hadn't in her young life. She'd know when he wasn't with her anymore. She'd be scared. Worse still, she'd be_ _ **scarred**_ _like he was now._

 _A sharp knock at the door startled Will out his reverie. He heard Mr. Cullum say his name a few times, but instead of answering, he hastily picked up Lucy's carrier and the bag with her clothes before he marched out, ignoring the stares and the calls as he hurried to get his daughter far away from this place. It wasn't until much later, safe at his own house, holding Lucy's body in front of him as they sat on the sand, that he felt able to speak again._

" _I'll never leave you," he vowed to her. "I'll never let anyone or anything come between us. It'll be you and me, taking on the world. Neither of us will ever be alone again. Okay?" She sneezed in reply and he laughed, feeling lighter than he had since he had read that blasted note, pulling her tight against him…_

Sometimes, there was kindness in the universe. Sometimes, it let things fall perfectly into place, which was why just as Will felt himself almost overcome from feelings years old that were unreasonably raw, he caught sight of his daughter with Gibbs and the others. Walking quickly to her, he didn't say a word to Lucy as he lifted her and her frog into his arms, hugging her tight and sighing in relief when she returned it.

"Daddy, you're squeezing me," she murmured in his ear after a minute.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he replied, loosening her only a fraction and cupping the back of her head to keep her close, trying to push the last vestiges of that awful day from his thoughts.

God, how had he almost been stupid enough to just give her away?

Finally, she pulled away enough so he could see her face. He smiled, taking in the painted-on whiskers, the black smudge on her nose, and the triangle ears artfully drawn over her eyebrows. "Guess what I am?"

"Hmm…" Will lovingly kissed her temple. "You are the most adorable kitten I've ever seen in my life."

"Nope. **I** am a mummy cat. They," Lucy pointed behind them to Gibbs, Pintel, and Ragetti, "are my kittens!"

Whatever lingering sorrow and guilt Will had been experiencing disappeared at the sight of the three grown men wearing pastel face paint and looking for all the world that they wished the Earth would open to swallow them whole. He nearly dropped Lucy as he doubled over with laughter. Struggling for air, he tried to ask, "How…How did she get you to…?"

"Well, uh, even for a wee miniature lass," Gibbs explained gruffly, avoiding the eyes of all the passersby, "she's persuasive beyond her years."

"That she is," Will replied, regaining control of himself and cuddling his daughter again.

"Meow, meow, meow," she mewled with a giggle. "Meow! Meow!"

"What does that mean in English, Lucy-Goosey?"

"Can we go see Elizabeth **now**?"

"Sure," he told her with a shake of his head, leading them all through the maze of Junkanoo, Lucy bouncing in his arms in time to the music surrounding them. When they reached the view of the buffet, Lucy fought down to the ground and Will reluctantly released her, trailing behind as she ran towards Elizabeth, who in turn, turned away from what looked like a decidedly unpleasant conversation with Bria to beam and tug the child to her side. By the time Will reached them, Elizabeth was helping Lucy pick out a few bite-sized treats on the serving side of the table.

"Now, not too many," Elizabeth explained when Lucy reached for a second cupcake. "You're already too sweet as it is and we're not supposed to give cats desserts." As Lucy started munching away, Elizabeth rearranged spoons and tongs to avoid looking at him when she said under her breath, "I'm sorry for whatever she said or did."

"It's fine," Will assured her, trying in vain to meet her eye. "She's your friend."

"She's a pill," Elizabeth countered, "but, you know, she's all I have so…"

Before he thought it through, his hand immediately reached for one of hers across the table, squeezing it gently until she finally met his gaze. "No, she's not," he declared quietly, amazed that Elizabeth could still think that after all this time.

If she was ever going to respond to him, it would forever be a mystery. A loud cry from the other end of the table captured their attention and Will looked to see Gerald, one of Anamaria's waiters, holding up his arm as it bled profusely from the carving knife he had just accidently cut it with. In a flash, Elizabeth's hand left his and he caught a quick glimpse of her walking away from the scene with Lucy towards Bria, her face paling considerably. She let Bria wrap an arm around her shoulder and sat down at one of the table, keeping her ramrod straight back to the scene.

There was no time to worry over her reaction as he hurried over to help the injured man and it wasn't until hours later back at the house, Lucy finally tucked into bed after the excitement of the festival, that he found himself looking at her sitting by herself on the deck after she had changed for bed, arms tucked around her knees. Moonlight really did become her; then again, so did the sunlight. Joining her, he lowered himself down slowly, giving her every opportunity to leave or tell him she wanted to be alone. When she did neither, he took it as a sign and began to speak.

"Congratulations, for tonight. Everyone loved what you made."

There was the faintest hint of pride on the corner of her lips, but she tried to deflect, "It wasn't just me. The whole café worked to the bone to pull it off. I was only-"

"The conductor leading the whole orchestra."

"No, that's an-"

"The general leading the troops up the hill."

"Will…"

"The ringmaster of the circus. The rancher herding the cattle. The-" Her small gasp paused his comparisons and his heart thudded wildly when she put her hand on her stomach, all traces of humor forgotten. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah." For the first time all day, her brown eyes were alight and free of reservations. Licking her lips, she continued, "The…The baby's moving."

His heartrate increased again, for an entirely different reason. "Really? You can already…?"

"Uh-huh. I think it's been going on for a couple of days, I just didn't realize what it was until this morning."

"What does it feel like?" Will asked eagerly.

Elizabeth was silent for a moment in contemplation. "Like fingertips grazing the inside of me. It doesn't hurt at all. It just feels…even more real, I suppose. There's a person growing and moving about in there."

Talking about the baby brought last night to his mind and he looked to his feet. "I'm sorry. For…For…In your room last night," he apologized, hoping in the dark she couldn't tell how red his cheeks were flaming. "I shouldn't have violated your privacy like that. I wanted a chance to feel the baby for myself and I…I got carried away."

"Oh." He felt her shuffle slightly and he waited for her to lay into him. Instead, when she continued, her voice was even softer than his. "It's, uh, it's…I just didn't know that you wanted to feel…"

He dared to glance over at her, frowning. Laying his hands over where their baby grew, sending his thoughts and hopes to her (even if it was only in his subconscious) was something he had been dying to do since he had knocked on the door of Elizabeth's suite at the Strathwood. "Of course, I did. I only thought it would make you…uncomfortable to have me-"

"Why?" Her brown eyes pierced his, demanding answers.

"Because…" He struggled for coherency, as he always did when the full-brunt of her attention was focused on him. "Because when Lucy…when Rebecca was pregnant, she never let me feel Lucy. If I tried to put a hand on her stomach, she'd scream at me and we'd get into a row that would invariably lead to her threatening to leave and use again. After a while, I'd wait until she was passed out asleep to try and feel Lucy kicking. It was the only chance I had to let her know that someone on the outside was waiting for her, wanted her, loved her." He tried to smile a little, even though Elizabeth's expression hadn't moved a twitch. "Obviously, that problem doesn't exist with you and this one, so from now on, if…if you'll let me, I'll ask you if I can-"

Her hand shot over to his, pulling it to her stomach before he could close his mouth. She moved it ever so, perhaps trying to put him over the spot where she felt the movement, but Will was too lost in elation and surprise to really notice. "You're his father," Elizabeth told him firmly. "You never need to ask my permission to let him know that you love him and can't wait to meet him."

Even in his daze, her use of pronouns didn't escape his attention. "You know that I'm pretty well convinced that it's Abigail in there, right?"

"Well, you will have to readjust your…" She blinked owlishly at him. "How did you know that name?"

"You told Lucy. Your first mistake. Secrets are not forte."

"Ah. Well, glad I didn't tell her the boy's name then." She looked back towards the ocean, but didn't remove his hand from her. Will reveled in this time with her, in this silence when the world didn't encroach with its cries of how absurd their situation was; of how little sense it made that she was here with him now, letting him touch her and letting him know their child. He treasured it even more because he knew how precious this time really was. Soon enough, when Elizabeth realized how capable she was of living on her own, they'd both be gone from his daily life. "William…"

"Hmm?" He had been so deep into that sobering thought that he had completely missed the question she asked before she said his name to get his attention. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Her grin was unbelievably enchanting when she laughed at him. "William."

"I heard that part, but not the question before you scolded me with my full name."

"I wasn't scolding you. I was telling you what your son's name is going to be when he's born."

 _Wait, what? She wants to…She wants to call him William? Oh no…_

He tried, he truly did try, to keep his smile from slipping from his face, especially when he saw hers fall in time to his, but nothing could prevent it. "Elizabeth," he began carefully, removing his hand from her, "I-I appreciate the gesture, but I…I don't…"

"You don't want him to have your name," she finished in a pained whisper and he thought he'd trade almost anything in the world for a bullet to the heart right now. He watched her shoulders stiffen, could feel the ice starting to emanate from her form; in his imagination, there was another layer of brick being added to the top of her wall.

 _Come on, then_ , he heard Jack say in his head. _Let her in. Have some faith in her. Mate, if you choose to lock your heart away, you'll lose her for certain._

Swallowing deeply, he started speaking when he saw her shift to get up. "It's not my name. It's my father's name." When Elizabeth stopped moving, he forced himself to continue, "He wasn't…He abandoned me and my mother when I was a boy. He was a sailor and whenever he could, he was off on a ship, never thinking about what he was leaving behind or how we were faring without him, which often wasn't well. Even when my mother was…sick, he didn't come back; never even sent money to help support us. When she passed, I bartered my way onto a ship to try to find him. He was my only family left in the world. This was the last place we got a post from him, but he wasn't here. I stumbled my way to Jack and he took me in, saved me, really. Not sure what would have happened to me if it wasn't for him."

The waves were the only response to his story. This silence wasn't worth basking in; this one was making his palms sweat as she absorbed what he had told her. At last, he heard her say, "I don't want to name him after your father. I want to name him after **you** because Will, you're nothing like that loutish man you just described. You're the most honorable man I've ever known."

"But it's still his name," he argued, his spirits buoyed by her praise of him. "It's still another piece of him in my life when I don't want any more reminders of him than I already have."

"He's gone, though. You told me he died years ago, before Lucy was even born. What good comes from holding onto so much anger for someone who's not even here?"

With great care, he fought the instinct to look towards Jack's dock. There was only so much confessing a soul could endure in one night and despite Jack's warnings, he knew that, eventually, Bootstrap would find something in his life that mattered more than getting a peek at Will and his family. He always did.

Eventually, he'd tell her, but not tonight.

Elizabeth was still waiting for him to answer so tried to provide the best one he could. "You don't…You're having issues with your father right now and I know that's difficult, but you're an adult. You know why it's happening. He didn't leave you all alone as a little kid to fend for yourself, struggling to figure out what had happened or what you had done wrong to make him go." He saw her flinch slightly and instantly regretted bringing her own father up, knowing how upset that man made her. Hurriedly, he concluded with, "I'm sorry. It's a hard experience to explain to someone who wasn't abandoned as a child."

"I was." Her reply was so quiet, he'd barely heard her. When what she said registered, he frowned, trying to understand what she was telling him. She played restlessly with her fingers, keeping her focus on them as she continued, "My parents doted on me. I was spoiled ridiculously by them both. Father traveled a lot for work, but my mother stayed home with me. It was wonderful: nothing but baking lessons, playing dress-up with her fancy jewelry, even going to the shore when the weather was nice for pirate adventures. Our days were filled with fun and laughter. Except…" Elizabeth's hand wringing stilled right over her stomach. "Except there were some days when she didn't smile as much or leave her locked room. The staff would try and get her to come out, or my father would stand outside her door for hours if he was home, or he'd have doctors come to check on her, but she wouldn't budge. Couldn't budge, maybe. The days where she stayed in bed started to outnumber the ones that she didn't. No one would let me see her, though. They just kept saying that she was sick and needed time to recover. I tried to have the cook make her chicken soup because that's what she made me when I had a bad cold. I thought that's all it was. I was such a silly little thing."

Will's chest throbbed as he began to see how this story was going to end. He wanted to tell her to stop, that she didn't have to finish if she didn't want to, but her jaw was rigid with determination and he instinctively knew this was something she had needed to say to him, to **someone** , for a long time.

"When I was six, she woke me up in the middle of the night. I thought it was a dream at first because it had been nearly a whole week since I had seen her. She smiled down at me, stroking my hair, my face, just looking over me for so long that I almost fell back asleep. Finally, she pulled something from the pocket of her robe: an old necklace, a medallion that had been in her family for years. I had always loved it because she said it was a pirate medallion. She put it around my neck and told me…told me to always be brave and bold; to always go after my dreams without apologies. T-Then she kissed me goodnight and left."

"Elizabeth…"

"I woke up the next morning and I really believed that it was going to be a good day, a day when she would play with me and hold me. I hadn't slept much after she left, having too much fun pretending I was a pirate princess with my new necklace, so when I walked into the washroom, it took me a moment to notice how wet the floor was. I…I looked down and it was all red; all I saw was red until I managed to raise my head and…" Her eyes fluttered closed and her breath began to tremble. "She was just lying in the bathtub, eyes open at the ceiling and not moving. There was so much blood, Will."

At his name, her tone utterly lost and confused, he pulled her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin as he rocked her soothingly, not giving a thought on if she wanted his touch, only concerned with protecting her, with keeping her safe. To his surprise, she clung to him just as tightly and even though her body shivered ever so, she didn't cry. He almost did for her, unable to imagine how she had merely survived such a trauma, let alone to grow up to become someone so full of spirit and kindness. She truly was the strongest person he had ever known. Her own impending motherhood must have forced her to relive all those terrible memories as of late and her reaction to Gerald's injury earlier that night made sense. Yet moments ago, before she told him of **her** deep wound, she had been able to laugh and smile that glorious smile of hers that enthralled him like nothing else in this world.

He was amazed by Elizabeth Swann: her strength, her tenacity, her devoted heart that had taken to Lucy with such ease, all hidden beneath a grand beauty that artists should immortalize. She was perfection personified.

 _She's the woman you love_ , he thought stoically, feeling her body slowly relax with slumber, _and nothing you do could ever make you measure up to her level._

There was some sense of peace in finally admitting it. He didn't have to work himself into a lather to make excuses for what his mind or body did whenever he was around her. He could watch her from afar and allow himself the indulgence because it would be a way to channel his feelings into an action. Even this moment – holding her and letting himself take deep breaths of her flowery scent – was, in its own way, a wonderful one. She trusted him enough to comfort her. She had lowered her walls just a touch and allowed him a part of herself that maybe no one else, save for Bria, ever had and now, he could fully appreciate how blessed their baby was going to be to have someone with a warrior spirt for a mother.

Their baby – their **daughter** – would get to be loved by Elizabeth and Will couldn't help but feel just the tiniest bit jealous.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Sincere apologies for the delay. Hopefully, a ridicuously long chapter will provide me with forgiveness. At the end of this chapter there is a minor instance of drug use (marijuana) so if that offends you, this is your warning. Please forgive any errors of grammer or spelling and I hope you all really enjoy this chapter. It's a bit of a turning point. Please review if you have the time and inclination, as I love to hear from you, and happy reading!**

* * *

"COME ON!"

Elizabeth knew she should be scolding Lucy for her giddy impatience, but she could only shake her head and chuckle, slowly easing the jeep into a tight space at the waterfront of Arbor Bay. "Your father isn't expecting us for another hour," she reminded the little girl when she turned her head to the backseat.

"I know! This way we can surprise him, and he can make a goofy surprised face that I can draw later, and then I can show him and tease him all the time," Lucy said, squirming in her need to leap from the car when Elizabeth put it into stop.

"Oh poppet, you are a delight," Elizabeth told her with a grin, finally shifting the car into park.

Lucy was already out of the car, bouncing on the balls of her feet while she waited for Elizabeth to grab her large handbag and then started tugging the older woman towards the shipyard. Elizabeth couldn't see past the massive gray warehouse in front of them, but she knew docked on the other side were three vessels that Will and his crew were in the process of restoring. It was the one inside the building, though, that both Elizabeth and Lucy had been dying to get a look at since Will had told them of its arrival: a wooden frigate from the Portuguese Navy that Will's boss had somehow arranged for the fledging company to work on. For the pair of pirate enthusiasts, it was too irresistible a chance to wait for, so Elizabeth had taken off from work an hour early and collected Lucy from her playdate to meet Will for lunch after which they would set off on their main goal for today, one that had Elizabeth nearly brimming over with excitement:

Going to Corrine's for her appointment to – hopefully – reveal the baby's gender.

Not that she needed the medical conformation; every instinct she had was telling her she was carrying a boy, but she savored any chance she'd have to get a look at her baby before he was placed in her arms.

"I don't know," Elizabeth teased Lucy, unable to help herself. Planting her feet firmly into the gravel, she stopped them. "Maybe we should come back another time. I think I'd rather spend the rest of the day scrubbing out the stove. Doesn't that sound more fun?"

"NO!" Lucy used all her strength to try and move the older woman, tugging on Elizabeth's hand with both of her own, her little muscles and face straining while Elizabeth resisted her efforts. "You promised!"

"I changed my mind. I'm a woman, we're allowed to do that at the drop of a hat." She nearly stumbled forward when Lucy suddenly let go, running behind her and pushing on her back to get her moving.

"Pirates don't clean anything!" Lucy grunted over Elizabeth's cackles as she hustled them both into the bustling warehouse. Amid the din of loud industrial tools operating and workers calling out to each other, the child stopped them when she saw the frame of the ship – a three-masted giant of sea-soaked wood, with gleaming decks and a majestic wheel that Elizabeth itched to wrap her hands around – and clung tight to Elizabeth's knee in awe. "Wow," she breathed, green eyes alive with thrill.

"Well said," Elizabeth agreed, wrapping her free arm around Lucy, tucking her purse over her shoulder. As much as she loved her baking, a tiny part of her wished she had Will's innumerable skills in construction. She envied him having the ability to work on ships every day. It was something she would have longed for at Lucy's age.

"Do you think Daddy can take us on board?"

"I'm not sure. Let's find him and ask." Lucy didn't seem to have it in her to pull her attention away from the ship, leaving it to Elizabeth to crane her neck to search for Will. It didn't take long to spot him across the way.

It did take her more than a moment to process what she was seeing:

The polite grin Will was sporting didn't bother her. His smile was one of her favorite sights. The willowy blonde with the top button of her silk blouse unbuttoned and her full lips pouted coyly, leaning in close to rest her palm on Will's shoulder, on the other hand…

Violence had never been her forte. She wasn't physically imposing enough to pull it off and she had always found a battle of wits to be more fulfilling revenge, but with white-hot blood pounding in her ears, Elizabeth was more than willing to make an exception in this instance.

 _Who does she think she is?!_ Elizabeth fumed, Lucy's warm body against hers the only thing keeping her in place. _Stupid twat! Doesn't she know that he's…that he's…I mean, true he's not…_

Her blinding jealousy petered out to resentment towards Will. He wasn't hers. For the good of their baby's future, to make sure that she and Will could raise him together without any awkwardness dividing them, her love for the man was off-limits. It wasn't something she relished, but she was an adult. She accepted it.

That didn't mean she should be subjected to seeing him flirt with other women in front of her as their son kept twitching away at her insides, did it?

"Daddy!" Lucy's happy shout made her blink in realization. When she felt Lucy release her, she quickly grabbed her phone from her pocket and put her back towards Will as the child ran straight to him, breathing deeply to calm herself.

The device rang in her ear only twice before the voice on the other end picked up. "Lizzie, my love, where are you? I'm at the café, chatting up Anamaria. Why aren't you here? I thought I'd tag along to lunch."

"I…I…Lucy wanted to see a ship that Will's working on," Elizabeth told Bria, trying with all her might to banish the dreadful image of that woman's hand on Will's body. "Sorry I missed you."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Everything's just-"

"Lizzie…"

"I'm amazing, I promise! There are sunny skies, I have a bit of spare change in my pocket, I finally have decent cleavage for the first time in my life. There's not a-"

"Okay, you can keep prattling on like this or you can just 'fess up and save me the time and you the oxygen."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Best friends who knew you better than the alphabet were overrated beyond belief. "I just saw him talking to a-a woman is all," she admitted quietly, feeling her neck burn.

"What about?"

"I'm not sure. They're at the other end of the warehouse."

"Oh, so you were spying on him then?"

"Of course not! We just…Lucy and I got here early, and I didn't expect to see him with whoever the hell she is."

"Maybe she works there on the boats, making repairs and whatnot."

"Not the way she's dressed," Elizabeth muttered, remembering well the stylish top and pencil skirt hemmed just above her knee. A power wardrobe, feminine yet fierce, something she herself had been groomed to wear, unlike the pair of faded overall shorts and tank top she was sporting that did little to conceal her expanding waistline.

Bria laughed to herself as she said, "Then perhaps she's quite skilled with her hands in other areas." When Elizabeth didn't answer, the sudden threat of nausea nearly overpowering at the mere idea of Will like that with another woman, Bria softened her tone. "Oh, sweet girl. I'm a bitch sometimes, aren't I?"

"Sometimes?"

"Fine, twenty-three out of twenty-four hours of the day. Don't worry, Anamaria is giving me a nasty frown right this instant."

"Good." Unable to stop, she slowly turned and saw that Will's attention, thankfully, was focused solely on Lucy as he pointed out various features on the ship and explained what they were, although the mystery woman seemed to be making a meal of Will's backside with her eyes in between writing on a small steno pad. "She's pretty," Elizabeth said, her voice small. "Very pretty, skinny, and blonde."

"Well, you're gorgeous, brilliant, and carrying his child. You'd win the contest, if there even was one. Although it is quite silly of you to object to others participating when you won't even fill out an entry form." She laughed again. "This time Anamaria is nodding so hard her lovely neck is going to snap soon."

"Don't start," she sighed. Forcing herself to deny her feelings was hard enough. She had no wish to hear from her friends on the subject. Eager to move on, she asked, "What are you doing with Anamaria?"

"Chatting. Is that not allowed either, in addition to Sexy Bar Man talking to members of the fairer sex?"

"What are you chatting about?" Elizabeth asked, her suspicions raised. With Anamaria's busy schedule, her two best girlfriends hadn't spent much time together since Bria's arrival and Elizabeth was immediately wary.

"Not about you, Lizzie. There **are** other things that exist in this world besides your needlessly complicated love life."

"Like what?"

"Jack's pecker."

Even for Bria, that was an abrupt non-sequitur. "Excuse me?"

"What? It just came up." She snorted inelegantly. "God, I should charge you for this. Maybe the little nuisance is right. I should pursue a career in comedy."

"You do that," Elizabeth said offhandedly, her attention refocused on the Turners. If she had thought seeing another woman touch Will had been enraging, it was nothing compared to what rose up in her at the sight of her nameless enemy smiling and shaking Lucy's hand. Suddenly, escape became paramount if she was going to avoid spending the day in a holding cell. Clenching her teeth so hard she was amazed they didn't crack, she turned away again, scarcely able to keep herself in check. "I-I have to go. Listen, be a lamb and cover for me later with Will."

"Why? What are you doing."

"Nothing bad, I promise."

"Again, though, why should I?"

"Because you love me, and you'd do anything for me, and if your grandmother ever saw half the pictures of you I have on my phone, she'd swat your behind until it matches your hair."

"Fine," Bria said simply before lowering the boom, "so long as **you** ask some pointed questions about that information I got from Andre the other day. Deal?"

"Deal," Elizabeth said as she hung up, desperate enough for Bria's compliance that she agreed before thinking. Now that the damage was done, she wondered how to go about it without having to talk to Will.

 _Or looking Will in the eye or hearing his voice or being in the same room with him again as every woman in the world who isn't me tries to get their hands down his trousers,_ she thought sullenly.

"I'd offer you a penny for your thoughts, but I'm afraid I haven't carried denominations that small in many years," an Australian voice behind her said softly. When she spun around, it's owner – a man in his early fifties dressed in expensive yet rumpled khakis and a tailored shirt – smiled crookedly as he stuck out a hand. "I am Hank DeMarcus."

"Oh, of course. Elizabeth Swann." She took his hand in greeting, slightly chagrinned that she had finally met Will's boss when she was in such a state. "How do you do?"

"Wonderful when I'm with such lovely company." He gently turned her palm upward to kiss it. For all Will's talk of this man being a pirate, he seemed to live more on the roguish side then the menacing. "And you, my dear?"

"Fine," she replied, grateful he didn't know her well enough to see that she was lying. Adjusting the strap of her purse, she saw that Will was still occupied with Lucy, nothing but doting pride radiating from his face as he lifted her in his arms to walk her further into the warehouse, showing off both his work to her and his daughter to the various staff, the blonde trailing after them. She should be pleased his attention was elsewhere, for it made for a much easier exit, yet she couldn't muster it.

It was exhausting having a relationship that was all at once the most honest and contradictory one she had ever known.

Feeling Hank studying her keenly, she turned on her most winning, diplomatic smile, cultivated from years of attending state functions on her father's arm. "I apologize if I sound a bit bold, Mr. DeMarcus, but could I trouble you for a small favor?"

"So long as you call me Hank, I am happy to be at your service."

"Alright then, Hank, I just received a call from my friend, Bria. She needs me for something at her hotel right this moment. Would you mind please telling Will that I have to cancel lunch and I'll just meet him at the midwife's? She's a little frantic so I need to get right over there."

"Really?" Hank raised his eyebrows slightly. "That's a shame. He was quite looking forward to spending time with his daughter and you. All he's talked about today. Well, that and seeing the little one there. No way your friend can take a raincheck?"

"No," Elizabeth insisted sweetly, beginning to walk backwards. "It's, uh, apparently a rather urgent emergency of the female nature. You know how those things are."

"Thankfully, I do not." She waved a quick farewell and hastened her steps as she spun ahead to keep walking to the car. She startled a bit when Hank appeared at her shoulder. "You sure there's no way I can get you to reconsider? I know Will was desperate for a break back there."

"From what?" She hoped that she had kept the curdle off her lip as she pictured that woman fawning all over Will. "He seemed to be…He seemed like he was having a pleasant afternoon."

"Well, he puts on a good front. He has to, though, considering I'm the one foisting Michelle on him and his checks have my name on them."

 _So, the Ungodly Repugnant Slag has a name, does she? Good for her then. Ungodly Repugnant Slag would probably take up too much space on her nametag at the Annual Whore Convention._

"She's a reporter for _Sailing World_ ," Hank continued over Elizabeth's private musings. "Best publication in the nautical business. She's doing a human-interest piece on him to highlight the company, give us a good footing to start on. He's a great story: humble beginnings; raised by himself; a young single father, but of course, you know all that about him."

"Of course." But how she longed to know him even better, to have more of him, to be the one that he could share his life with. "I'm happy he's finally being recognized for all that he's worked for."

"He's not. Michelle says it's like scrapping barnacles off a hull one by one to get him to open up to her. He doesn't enjoy talking about himself. He's trying, though. Wants the company to do well, wants to provide a better life for his children than he had growing up. I can respect him for that." Boldly, he placed a hand on her shoulder, urging her to pay attention. "Enough so that I'm listening to his numerous complaints about Michelle's unwanted flirting and am having the magazine send out a new reporter starting tomorrow."

Elizabeth paused, her key in the locked door. Hank was smilingly knowingly at her and she flushed. "That's, ah, nice of you, but you don't…I mean, he doesn't need to feel that…" She shook her head a little to collect herself. "He has nothing to feel guilty over, if that's what's making him reluctant to give an interview to her. He and I aren't in a relationship."

Hank held up a hand in understanding. "Certainly. That's perfectly clear to everyone who meets you two. After all, you're only living together, caring for a child together, and expecting a baby together. In what universe is that being in a relationship with someone, I wonder?" Elizabeth blinked at his smirk and that seemed to soften him somewhat. "Are you sure I can't convince you to take my rising star out for a quick bite?"

The seagulls shouting overhead echoed along to her pounding heart. Those in her and Will's inner circle may have made numerous subtle (or unsubtle) allusions and insinuations to them about their situation since Elizabeth had arrived, but no one had put it quite as starkly has Hank just had.

 _A man worth as much as him probably doesn't dabble in the understated_ , she thought. _Not even to delicate expectant mothers like me._

The baby quickened stronger than ever then and Elizabeth placed a free hand on her stomach to settle her growing boy, reminding herself what was more important than a stranger's opinion. "Please tell Will I'll see him at Corrine's," she told Hank. "It's not a bother for him to have Lucy here, is it? I can take her to Anamaria's or with me if he needs to focus on something else."

"And deny a man the thrill of being the king of his little girl's world for a bit? Not on your life." He turned to leave her, but something brought him back after a few steps. "He's a good kid. You seem to be, too. I hope for both your sakes that it works itself out.

A long-forgotten joke suddenly popped into Elizabeth's mind and she smiled with a bit more ease. "I'm afraid I'm quite short on ketchup at the moment."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Something my mum used to say. If my father ever told her that something needed work, she'd always ask, 'Would only require ketchup? Funny little problem'." When Hank narrowed his eyes, she rushed to explain, "She was American. She had a lot of silly sayings and jokes."

Instead of smiling, like she thought he would, Hank nodded slowly, looking at her curiously. "Hope everything's alright with your friend. I'll, uh, give your regards to Will and Lucy." He left her alone to return to his warehouse, where he would get to see both Turners unencumbered by doubt and indecision.

 _Lucky man_ , she thought bitterly, climbing into her car and speeding away before Will could find her and convince her to stay, which she didn't doubt that he could. He could convince her to do just about anything.

The proof of that was living inside her right now.

Shaking her head, she started driving towards downtown. She may be a shameless coward, but she was a woman of her word and she had told Bria she'd get answers to questions that had been plaguing them both for a few days now.

Twenty minutes later, she found herself parked only a few blocks from the Black Pearl. Despite the heat of the day, she felt a chill up her spine as she got out of the car, acutely remembering how it felt to be wrapped up in Will's arms that night, passion driving them into the upstairs bedroom. If she was being truthful with herself, though, (hardly an every day occurrence to begin with), she almost preferred how he had held her the first night of the festival, when they had each revealed pieces of the childhood traumas that had shaped them into adults. Instead of panicking over her own mental state, as she always secretly feared when people found out how her mother died, Will hadn't even asked a question before pulling her to him, cradling her over his steady heartbeat while giving her the safety she needed when recalling those horrid memories. It was the first time in ages she had found the courage to talk about her mother and despite the pain it caused, there was a huge part of her that savored Will knowing.

He hadn't run away. He hadn't judged her. He accepted her and in doing so, only made her fall just a little bit more head over heels for him. Drifting off to sleep against his chest, a tiny voice in her head started telling her that maybe this was it; maybe this was Will realizing she was as special to him as he was to her; maybe there was reason to hope. Naturally though, when morning came, and she awoke from her own bed to find Will in the kitchen casually making Lucy's breakfast, with nothing in his words or actions alluding to anything the previous night, her misguided feelings slunk dejectedly back into their corner.

 _Bloody twit_ , she thought as she knocked loudly on the side entrance of the club. _Why can't you just let him go?_

It was simple: Because he was Will.

Where he was concerned, there was no reasoning with her wayward heart.

Her hand was raised to rap against the door again when it was roughly pulled open to reveal a scowling, disheveled Jack on the other side. He squinted against the harsh sunlight, ushering her quickly inside the empty club, their footsteps echoing harshly against the floor, Jack's gait wobbly as he went back behind the bar. "Did I sleep through me birthday again?"

"No. We're all going to Tortuga tonight." Carefully accommodating her new center of gravity, she perched herself on a barstool while she tried to keep herself in the moment now and not travel back to a night when a young man had captured her with a heart-stopping smile.

"Includin' the Lady McKendrick, correct?" The older man nearly moaned in satisfaction at the thought and Elizabeth grimaced.

"You're a pig, Jack Sparrow."

"Never denied it, luv." His hooded eyes sparkled mischievously as he poured himself a drink. "What can I get for you?"

"Mojito, please." Jack's doubletake lifted Elizabeth's drooping spirits and she smiled. "Virgin."

"Cheeky." As he prepared her drink, Elizabeth took in the huge space where her life had unexpectedly shifted. Jack set the glass in front of her and let her take a long sip before he asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Lizzie?"

"You know how Bria has been helping me try to find my own place since she's arrived? We haven't been having much luck of it. I'm not really wild about most places in my price range."

"You should talk to Will 'bout that. I'm sure he'd be more than obligin' about addin' funds to aid to the cause."

"I don't want his money."

"Perhaps not, but he'll be quite insistent on providin' for the babe."

"I more than capable of taking care of myself and the baby financially. He doesn't need to-"

"He really does, and if you don't know that 'bout him after all this time, you've got yourself a pile of rocks where your brain ought to be."

Elizabeth tapped her fingers against the smooth glass of her drink. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I am quite addled. That's the only thing I can come up with for not realizing one of the main reasons I can't find a place around here."

"Which is?" Jack asked, busy adding various liquors into a seidel.

"Well, what was it you said during your toast at dinner right after Anamaria hired me? I seem to recall it was something along the lines of welcoming me to gainful employment, the purpose of which is to accrue wealth and become an affluent landowner." She leaned over the bar top and raised a haughty eyebrow as he started to understand what she was saying. "Just like you," she finished in a whisper.

"Ah." He nodded in appreciation of her gumption, putting down a bottle of vodka as he completed his mixture. "That **did** take you quite a long time to decipher, Lizzie."

"I can't take the credit. Bria thought some rates for flats I couldn't afford were too high and she had the real estate agent look into it. Your name came up on several of them as the proprietor." She let him drain half of his drink, trying to force the words out. "Did Will…Did he ask you to…?"

Jack stared her down for a moment, with such scrutiny that she might as well have been nude. "I begged him to let me put you up somewhere when you first got here," he began. "Didn't want him turnin' his life three ways from Sunday for someone he hardly knew. Didn't want Lucy gettin' attached. He wouldn't pay me no mind, though. Said for all you'd given up, it was his duty to make sure he was there to take care of you proper." Jack shook his head in disbelief. "No idea how he kept that moral compass of his pointed due north, considerin' how long I had me hands on him, but he did and now here you are, with his future happiness – 'long with the power to rob him of it– all in yours."

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open at Jack's insinuation. "I would never keep the baby away from him," she said quietly, horrified.

"Lizzie, that ain't-"

"I-I know that it was difficult for him during…I mean, with Lucy's…Obviously things were more strained back then, as I understand, but he honestly can't think that I'd ever…" Jack's throaty chuckle suddenly infuriated her and without warning, she flung the remainder of her mocktail in his smug face, the strains of the past two hours finally taking their toll. "Good day to you, Captain Sparrow," she hissed, hopping off the stool in a huff.

Before she took a step, he snagged her wrist tightly over the wooden barrier and tugged until her stormy eyes met his. "You'll have to forgive me, m'lady. I oftentimes forget something rather important where you and dear William are concerned."

"Take your hand off me right this instant." His grip didn't come close to painful, but she deplored being manhandled.

Instead of obeying her, he used his other hand to wipe his face with a dishrag. "I forget," he continued, ignoring her and tamping down on her further until she stopped squirming, "given the ease with which you fit into his life that you didn't know him before you. Ergo, this him that you are so well acquainted with is not the him that he was until he met you. Savvy?"

Elizabeth tried and failed to follow his thought. "What?"

"He's changed since you came 'round," Jack said slowly, enunciating each word as he released her, the seriousness of his dark eyes locking her into place. "I've known him since he was a lad and I swear to you with all the honor this worthless braggart possesses that he needs you, Elizabeth Swann, in his life. Because as much as he already adores that babe you're carryin' so well, it ain't the main reason why he finally got himself in gear to pursue what he always should've been doing with ships, and it ain't the reason why his eyes search for you in a crowded room, and it ain't why I've never seen him smile the way he does when he hears your name. That is why I have done what I could to try and keep you in that house with him and Lucy. Call me unscrupulous, dishonest, and duplicitous; just don't call me Penelope and don't be late for me party tonight. You are bringin' the cake after all." With a less than graceful bow, he took his drink and began sauntering off to the backroom.

He was almost out of sight when Elizabeth managed to find her voice again. "You're wrong. He's not…I'm not…" Her mind struggled to complete what her heart was fighting against as she gathered her bag to leave. Why couldn't everyone just leave her be to accept what was? "We're friends and we're having a baby. That's all I am to him."

"Will's terrified of pushin' you away if he speaks his truth, that I know for biblical fact," Jack said when her back was to him. "Can't say for sure what has you imbedded in such a state of denial, but if you're both lettin' a thing like fear keep you from bein' happy, I frankly have no use for either of you."

The door shutting loudly behind him made Elizabeth jump slightly, spurning her out of the club and back to her jeep. Normally, the warm breezes and island sights were restorative whenever she happened to find herself downtrodden. Today was different. She drove blindly, muscle memory guiding her, and felt nothing except bewilderment as Jack's words looped over in her brainwaves.

 _Will needs me? He looks for me? He…He's doesn't want to push me away?!_ Elizabeth let out a laugh of incredulity, her car speeding along the roads that got smaller and smaller the closer she got to Corrine's. _What the fuck has Jack been smoking? He should share with Bria. And Anamaria. And Hank. And Gibbs the other night. And…And Sophie's parents. And the woman in the marketplace and…and anyone else I've noticed giving us funny looks every time we're together._

For the first time, Elizabeth let herself wonder: Was everyone being a pest because they were actually seeing something and not just trying to be bothersome?

University hadn't been her favorite time in life. The law requirements she had been taking at Father's insistence were tedious to the enth degree, but one thing about Oxford she had enjoyed were the few philosophy classes she had been allowed. One of the most enjoyable lessons she ever had was when the studied Occam's razor. Her professor had the class playing detectives trying to solve a complex mystery of a wealthy man with many enemies and potential heirs dying in a locked room. Theories of deadly gas through the airducts, a tea laced with cyanide, and even a rare mosquito carrying a strain of Ebola were bandied about until the professor stopped and asked why no one had asked the man's age; he was ninety-two years old and with that information, the professor asked them all if it was not more plausible that the man had simply died in his sleep of old age.

"Occam's razor," the elderly professor had explained, catching the eager eye of a younger, attentive Elizabeth, "teaches us that when you are presented with multiple theories to the same question, the simplest of them all will tend to be the correct one. The more conjecture we need to add to a theory, the less likely it is to be true."

To put that into practice today, what was the more likely scenario? That Will, his very nature being one of selflessness, was letting her stay at his house all this time to be supportive and devoted to their unborn child or…

 _Or what? He's madly in love with me and thinks – because he's really a stupefied dunce – that I'll ran for the hills if he tries to kiss me or hold me or make love to me until I'm boneless? What a crock! He's every fantasy I've ever had come to life while I'm just hormonal, needy, emotionally scarred cow getting fatter by the day._

It wasn't until she pulled in front of Corrine's house that an idea began to take hold: Will knew what she was. He knew about her emotional scars because she had told him after he had told her about some of his own. Childhood pains could reverberate painfully through the years, something Elizabeth understood all too well, and made sharing one's feelings difficult.

So why should Will be immune?

He, too, had lost his mother young and been abandoned by a bastard of a man. That didn't even take into account the fact that he had had to work heinously hard to support himself and his drug-addicted girlfriend, who needed to be supervised constantly to make sure their baby could be born, all before he had turned twenty.

It might not be easy for a man like that to admit that he needed someone. It might be downright impossible for him to open himself up to love, even if it was sleeping a room away from him, aching for his touch so badly it felt like –

"Elizabeth?" Her unladylike gasp made Corrine put a hand over her chest to hold in her laughter as she leaned further into the jeep. "I'm sorry, dear. You've been staring daggers at that dashboard for about ten minutes now. I saw you from the window and decided to take pity."

"Uh, right. Yeah, I was just…thinking too hard about something."

"Something interesting?"

Were her endless ruminations on Will and the state of their relationship "interesting"? Not to Elizabeth. To her, they were just exhausting. Getting out the car, she deflected as she followed Corrine up the porch. "I wasn't keeping you waiting, was I?"

"No, you're my last appointment of the day." She looked around as she led Elizabeth inside and up the stairs. "Where's William? He's coming, isn't he?"

"Him, and a few others that want a gander. They're all meeting me."

"Oh, so we're having an audience, are we? Exciting for you both to have so many to share this with."

"Suppose so." Elizabeth sat herself on the exam table and opened her bag, pulling out a container of banana-walnut muffins for her midwife when she spotted the second one underneath it. "Damn it!"

Corrine glanced up from the paperwork she was filling out. "What is it?"

Holding up both containers, she handed Corrine hers and shook the other one a little before putting it back. "Butterscotch brownies. I forgot to leave them with Will earlier. He and Lucy could've shared for lunch, they both love them."

"Well, there's always time to nibble on sweets later." They were quiet as Corrine listened to Elizabeth's chest with a stethoscope. Satisfied, she nodded and got the blood pressure cuff around Elizabeth's arm. "It's nice to see someone taking care of him, if you don't mind me saying."

Elizabeth shrugged with feigned indifference. "He seems like he does well on his own."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" Corrine's bright blue eyes narrowed as she took the measurements. "He's a good lad, stronger than most, but everyone needs someone to take a bit of their struggles occasionally, especially now. As worrisome as a pregnancy is for a mother, it can be just as hard on a father. Everything's out of their control and that's not easy, especially for someone like William and what he went through with Lucy and…" Corrine seemed to catch herself. Shaking her head, she patted Elizabeth's arm as she took the cuff off. "You're good and rested up from the festival, I take it?"

"Yes. Thank you again for coming to the house. You didn't have to have to do that."

"William insisted. Promised to put new windows in my kitchen if I lent a hand."

Elizabeth sighed. "He's busy already with the new job. He shouldn't be taking on more when-"

"Which is why I have no intention of taking him up on that offer. Just easier sometimes to let him think he can repay the acts of kindness that people are more than happy to do for him and his." She winked conspiratorially. "Have the baby's movements increased?"

"Yeah, more and more every day. I think I'm going to have a little wiggle monkey on my hands." She blinked past the light Corrine was shining in her eyes. "It feels wonderful."

"Enjoy it now. You might not be saying the same thing when your kidneys become punching bags. Still taking your prenatal vitamins?"

"You mean my morning choking hazards? Oh yes, highlight of my day."

"If it's the worst thing you ever must do for your baby, consider it a blessing," Corrine said, her seriousness undercut by tweaking Elizabeth's nose. Helping her patient stand, Elizabeth unfastened her overalls to uncover herself while Corrine pulled measuring tape out of her tunic and wrapped it around Elizabeth's stomach, recording the numbers. "Excellent size. You're getting full marks for this pregnancy so far, Ms. Swann."

"Thank you." Climbing back on the table, she watched as Corrine updated her file while they waited in easy quiet for Will and the others. They should be along any moment and then they could start the scan. Stroking her bare belly with her fingertips, she bit her lip to try and hold her question in until she finally couldn't. "What was she like?" Elizabeth asked faintly.

"Who?"

"Lucy's..." Elizabeth swallowed, the expression getting stuck in her throat

Corrine's pen paused it's scratching as she looked up, her mouth set in a thin line. "Rebecca?"

Elizabeth nodded; half afraid Corrine would refuse to answer, half afraid of what the answer could be.

Folding her arms around her thin frame, Corrine blew a strand of brown hair from her eyes as she thought. "Without going into medical details, she was troubled, as anyone who abuses drugs is," she said, choosing her words with great care.

"Jack and Anamaria say…well, the baby can't understand yet, but I'd still never say it out loud where they could hear."

"No doubt. They knew her as William's on-and-off girlfriend, though. I was responsible for caring for her and her child. Pregnancy is emotionally draining under ideal circumstances, which hers certainly wasn't, so I wasn't seeing her at her best. Everything was a fight, no matter how patient William or I were with her and towards the end..." Corrine exhaled slowly. "She almost didn't let him in the delivery room. Lucy was crowning by the time I finally convinced her, and I had the nurse put that baby girl right in his arms the second she was cleaned up."

"Did she even hold Lucy? Did she try with her?"

"Not everyone has the tools to be a parent, dear. It may have been better for all three of them that she realized that too early rather than too late." She came over and gave Elizabeth's free hand a tender squeeze. "Rebecca is their past; an important part, no doubt, but the past nonetheless. I think it's better for William and Lucy to focus on the future ahead, wouldn't you agree?"

Tracing a nonsensical pattern over the baby, Elizabeth tried to joke, "Minding another pregnant stray? Seems more like history repeating itself for Will."

Corrine tipped her chin up and waited for Elizabeth's eyes to meet hers. "It's not," she promised. The phone rang downstairs before Elizabeth could comment. "Be right back, dear."

Alone again, Elizabeth leaned her head back on the table and continued stroking her belly. "So, I guess we can add Corrine to the list now too," she whispered to her child. "That brings the total up to what? The whole population of this bloody island? I'd quite like it if everyone could just mind their own business, Shelf."

Still, in the silence of the small exam room, it nagged at her overworked brain that so many people kept seeing something that she couldn't. They pressed on, trying to make her see a future that wouldn't come to pass, raising her hopes each time she gave in, only to crash down to Earth when Will refused to reach out to her. One of these days, she was terrified that fall was going to crush what was left of her heart, but what was even more scary was how good the rise felt; letting those moments when Will's soft smile would wash over her, his eyes crinkling with repressed laughter as they listened to Lucy describe her latest plans for her August birthday party, brought on a sense of joy that knew no rival and she was addicted to it. She'd do almost anything in the world to have it every day.

Wouldn't she?

Shouldn't she be willing to do whatever it took to keep the people she loved close? To keep ungodly repugnant slags from being able to go near them? To give her son the true family she had longed for since she was six years-old?

The sobering idea gave her pause. What would her child say if he had a choice in this?

Wouldn't he want her to at least try?

Glancing down at her bump, she contemplated the life growing steadily inside it. "Well, what do you think, little man? You're around me and your dad all the time," Elizabeth murmured under her breath. "Should I…Would **he** run for the hills if I tried to kiss him or even just talk to him? Hmm?" The baby shifted, and she could have sworn she felt it just beneath her fingers, eliciting a bemused smile from her. "Oh, I see. That's quite enlightening."

The loud creak from the floorboards caught her off guard and she tore her eyes from her baby to meet Will's in the doorway.

* * *

It didn't surprise Will anymore how, after so much time together, Elizabeth still found ways to be captivating. Time and proximity had done little to dull his senses to her presence. From the obvious (her continuing morning yoga routines) to the mundane (watching her eyes grow intense as she whisked something into submission) to the downright peculiar (the adorable way she scrunched up her nose whenever she lifted the trash bag out of the bin), she kept finding new ways to draw him in. What **did** stillsurprise him was how much she could make him feel at any given moment: Tenderness mingled with lust, hope shadowed by resignation, adoration tinged with the nearly unbearable frustration that he couldn't see a way she would ever choose to be with him. It almost made him wishful for the times when they were apart, for it was a brief reprieve from the torment that was Elizabeth Swann.

Only then he'd stumble upon her like she was now – softly rubbing her bare belly, talking to their baby with a smile that only an angel could have – and he'd be ready to walk through any fiery hell to just be in the same room with her.

His feet inched closer to the doorway to get a better look and the floorboards announced his arrival, breaking whatever spell Elizabeth had found herself under. "Hey," he said, shuffling in slowly to stand beside her.

"Hi." Instead of trying cover herself, she didn't move, and he let himself feast on the gorgeous sight of her growing body. "W-Where is everyone?"

"Uh, downstairs," he explained while clearing his throat to pull his thoughts together, realizing too late that his ogling was making her uncomfortable. "Anamaria took Lucy to the bathroom, Corrine is on her phone with a patient, and Bria is berating someone named Oakley on her phone."

"Her assistant. His parents loved _Annie, Get Your Gun_."

"That's a man's name?" He whistled in sympathy. "Glad I got out of London when I did."

"Me too. I went to school with a girl called Zephyr and she apparently had a baby last year that, unless there was an egregious typo on her birth announcement, she doomed with the name Mellix."

"Well, I think this one," he nodded towards her stomach, "won't be too chaffed with Abigail."

"Really? You don't think **his** friends will take every chance to mock him for his girly name?"

Their playful argument was cut short by more feet clomping up the stairs behind them. Lucy scampered into the room before the other adults and immediately went to Elizabeth, perching herself on a rolling stool near her head. Laying her head down on the woman's shoulder for a hug, she asked, "Why didn't you say goodbye before you left?"

Elizabeth kissed her forehead and wrapped an arm around Lucy's shoulders. "I'm sorry," she whispered into the girl's hairline. "I didn't mean to leave you so suddenly. Bria needed my help with something important."

"With what?"

"A grown-up thing," Elizabeth replied after a beat. She smiled brightly when Lucy pulled back. "Nothing you need to worry about."

He nodded at Anamaria and Corrine as they joined them, trying to keep the frown off his face. Elizabeth's hesitation when she answered was easy for him to read as a lie. Why would she though? What had happened to make her want to miss spending an afternoon with Lucy, something she was normally eager for?

 _You happened, you idiot_ , he thought as the women bandied about. _You overstepped her boundaries – yet again – that night on the porch and now she can't even have lunch with you in broad daylight_.

True, he had been busy with work the last few days, both with bringing in their newest ship and practicing professional restraint by not screaming in that tasteless reporter's face whenever she made another thinly veiled overture inviting him back to her hotel for more follow-up questions. Other than quick shared meals in the kitchen with Lucy, he hadn't had any real time with Elizabeth since she had shared the story of her mother but seeing the steps she had taken to avoid being alone with him – going so far as to invite other people to their scan today – was all it took to remind himself of where he stood with her.

Now wasn't the time for self-flagellation. He'd make sure to carve out a block for it later. All he wanted right now was to make sure his youngest daughter was healthy and strong.

"So," Corrine began, pulling the ultrasound machine over to the other side of the exam table, "are we all ready for a peek?"

"Wait!" Bria shouted, her heels clacking hurriedly up the stairs before she burst into the crowded room with the phone pressed to her ear. Holding up a finger to them, she shot off into the device, "Last thing, you tell Parker that if I hear from any more of my clients that he's trying to poach them away from me during this sabbatical, I will…" She trailed off when Elizabeth snapped a finger at her, gesturing down to an oblivious Lucy. Sighing, Bria continued in a saccharinely-sweet voice, "I will make a certain part of his anatomy into a balloon animal…Yes…Yes, I know what I just sounded like. Get it done." She glared at Lucy as she put the phone away. "You're annoying. I hope I've made that clear in our time together."

The little girl smiled brightly at her. "I hope you're going to Captain Jack's party tonight. I want to sit next you for the whole thing."

Bria shook her head at Lucy as she walked behind her to stand at Elizabeth's head. "This one better be capable of listening," she told her friend, pointing at her belly.

"To everyone but you, I hope," Elizabeth quipped with a smile that Will matched.

Corrine set about putting a sheet under Elizabeth's stomach before getting the gel ready. Will shot Anamaria a quick look and she nodded, reaching for Lucy. "Hey baby girl, how about we go wait downstairs while they take some pictures? You can tell me all about your plans for-"

"But I want to see!" Lucy whined, looking up to her father with pleading eyes.

"We'll only be a few minutes," he told her, trying to lift her uncooperative body off the stool. "Ms. Calvert is going to check Elizabeth and then we'll-"

"Corrine already did my exam," Elizabeth cut in, edging the stool a little closer to her. "I don't mind if she stays for the scan. She just wants a look at this one, like the rest of us, right?" She and Lucy shared a sweet smile and Will looked to Anamaria for help. All she offered was a small shrug while patting his back supportively.

"It'll be fine," she whispered in his ear. Will gave her a tense nod in reply. He knew she well remembered his fears every time he came to these appointments with Rebecca. No matter how much they watched her, there were sparing moments when she had been able to slip away from them during her pregnancy. He was terrified that during one of those times, she'd find a way to do something to hurt his child and he wouldn't be able to know for sure until the next scan. Logically, he understood that those fears were baseless with Elizabeth, but logic often went by the wayside when the wellbeing of his children were concerned. Should anything be wrong, he didn't want Lucy in the room.

Apparently, Elizabeth was unencumbered by these concerns. She'd lived a much different life than him; one of privilege where good things were expected and problems were easily solved. He supposed he couldn't begrudge her that optimism.

Besides, he'd learned long ago that he was simply incapable of refusing Elizabeth Swann anything she wanted.

While he had been mired in his thoughts, Corrine had already smeared Elizabeth's stomach with the gel, holding the probe over it to begin. "We're finding out the gender, correct?"

"Absolutely," Elizabeth said at once.

"William?" Corrine raised an eyebrow at him.

"You're positive you want to know now?" he asked Elizabeth.

"YES!" Four female voices declared in exasperation and he held his hand up in surrender.

"Okay, I'm outnumbered. Let's…Let's find out." Slowly, he put his hand over Elizabeth's as they looked to the screen, waiting for any sign she wanted him to stop. Instead, she turned her hand into his so they were palm-to-palm.

There were a few uneasy seconds of quiet as Corrine put the probe to Elizabeth's skin. Will forced himself not to squeeze Elizabeth too tightly while they waited. Unconsciously, he wrapped his other arm around Lucy and pulled her close to his side.

Just as his breath started to tremble, a loud swooshing filled the room, drumming steadily along and Will let out a low sigh of relief when he saw Corrine nod in approval.

"What's that noise?" Lucy asked.

"That's the baby's heartbeat," Elizabeth whispered reverently.

"It is?" She tilted her head back for Will's answer. When he nodded, she put her own hand to her chest. "It's faster than mine."

"Well, this little one is doing some hard work growing and that takes a lot of energy," Corrine explained, adjusting the angle of the probe to get a better image. Will felt his heart stutter slightly at the gray-toned sight. The body was still small, but nearly fully formed and Will could clearly see the facial profile. It might have just been his imagination, but something of the nose's shadow reminded him of Elizabeth's. He took it as a sign that their daughter would look just like her mother.

 _Small miracles_ , he thought with a grin.

"So," he heard Elizabeth drawl, "I humbly ask again: Blue or pink?"

"I, for one, am firmly on Team Pink," Bria chimed in, leaning over the back of the exam table to get a closer look.

"You would be, just to annoy me."

"That's my job as bestie and don't you forget it."

"Not that my opinion matters, but this honorary auntie is also rooting for Team Pink," Anamaria said, nudging Will lightly with her elbow and winking. Years ago, he had confided in her his doubts of trying to raise a boy and he appreciated her loyalty to his cause.

"What does Team Pink mean?" Lucy asked him.

"It means they think the baby is a girl."

"Eck!" Lucy exclaimed, shaking her head so hard her braid swung. "Not me! I want a brother."

"Really?" Corrine inquired with an amused smile. "How come?"

"Because she doesn't want to share her toys," Will supplied good-naturedly.

Lucy tipped her head back again. "They're really good toys, Daddy!"

Will could only her buss nose, forever grateful this enchanting creature found her way into his world.

"And what about you, William? You're the tiebreaker. What team are you on?"

Elizabeth looked to him briefly, eyes alight with challenge, but he wouldn't take the bait. "Team Healthy," he answered before they both stared back at the screen. The baby stretched suddenly and Elizabeth gasped.

"I can feel that!"

"You've got an active one then," Corrine said absently, her focus on the screen. They waited patiently as she looked from multiple angles, checking with her trained eye to give them a definitive answer. Finally, she nodded to herself and glanced over to Will. "So, you're feeling a bit outnumbered, are you?"

His heart started beating rapidly with excitement. Another girl. A tiny Elizabeth that he'd get to cherish and adore for the rest of his life. "Yeah," he replied. "N-Not that I really mind or anything."

"Well, William, in a few more months," she began, a slow smile spreading on her face, "I'm happy to tell you that you'll be getting some reinforcements."

He blinked, her words bouncing aimlessly inside his head until Elizabeth shrieked with wonder. "I knew it!" she cried out, squeezing his hand again. "I knew it was a boy!"

 _A boy?_ Will thought in bewilderment, the excited cries and clapping of the various females in the room surrounding him as he squinted at the screen. _It's…It's…It can't be. Where's my daughter? I can't…I can't have a son._

Panic began clawing up through his insides, scratching against his ribs as it begged to be released in a scream of terror. He'd ruin a little boy. It was what Turner men did best, ruin their sons and set them on a path of destruction that he himself had only barely escaped from.

A gentle hand on his shoulder made him turn his head to meet Anamaria's steady eyes. "It's okay," she mouthed.

"How?" he uttered silently in return. The fear threatened with more force to escape and Anamaria read it easily. With great care, she turned his chin until he was looking down.

Lucy was bouncing up and down, giddily boasting to an unimpressed Bria about all the things she was going to do with a brother. Elizabeth laughed along with her, but her teary eyes never left the screen. With great care, she brought her fingers to her lips and reached over to touch them to the monitor. "Hello, little man," she whispered to the squirming image. "We can't wait to meet you in person."

Just in time, he painted a calm façade across his face when Elizbeth finally looked up to him, beaming and nearly breathless with excitement.

Will wasn't a simpleton. He'd learned long before his time that love wasn't what songs and books made it out to be. It was something that required great sacrifice. To love someone meant their needs always had to come before yours, without thought or hesitation. Simply put, that meant that the fear wreaking havoc on his soul right this instant would have to be shouldered by him and him alone.

He wouldn't let either Elizabeth or Lucy be robbed of their joy, especially over something as insignificant as his own emotions.

Yet it was those same emotions that made muddling through the rest of the day such a chore. Unwanted memories of watching his mother slam the door behind Bootstrap while he hid near the refrigerator or helping Jack hoist the man onto a sofa in his living room, the stench of booze clinging to him, or a hundred other remembrances crept into Will's thoughts at the oddest times, making being present in the here and now impossible. Luckily for him, Elizabeth was so caught up in her excitement over the baby that she didn't notice. She and Lucy drove home together, reveling in their all-knowing powers and then when they arrived, ensconced themselves in the kitchen to prepare Jack's birthday cake, leaving Will all alone to ponder past and future out in his shed with nothing but a carburetor to keep him company until it was time to get ready.

Showered and changed, he waited in the living room, trying not to brood when his eyes landed on the picture from the scan sitting on the coffee table. Picking it up slowly, he stared it down. This tiny person wasn't here yet and he was already throwing Will's world into chaos.

Yet again.

Elizabeth's name was typed in the corner of the paper. Sliding his thumb across the font, he peered closer at the baby and decided that really was Elizabeth's nose he was seeing. For the first time since the appointment, something other than fear filled the confines of his chest that, while it may not have banished all his deeply-entrenched misgivings, was certainly keeping them under a watchful enough eye that he could finally spare a hint of happiness.

 _You're_ _ **her**_ _son_ , he thought ruefully, imagining them both down the line laughing as the baby splashed in the bath Elizabeth would try to give him. _I'm going to work every day of my life to never fail Elizabeth Swann's child. You'll be her whole world and I won't let anything bad happen to her world._

"Miss Corrine said he's as big as a mango." Will jumped a little when Lucy sat beside him, wiggling until she was in his lap. She smoothed out her dark pinafore as she settled in for a cuddle. "And he's already getting fingernails."

"Yeah, that sounds about right. You had long ones when you were born. I got nervous for a bit when I saw you because you had all these scratch marks on your face." Lightly touching her hair, he smiled at the colorful ribbons that Elizabeth had weaved into her braid. "This is very pretty."

"Thank you." Leaning in, she whispered, "Sometimes it's sort of fun to be pretty. Don't tell anyone."

"Deal."

Together, they looked at the picture of the newest member of their family while they waited for Elizabeth until Lucy laid her head on his shoulder. "What was I like when I was a baby?"

"You? Well, you were a cuddle-bug from the moment you were born, just like you still are." She hugged him tighter, proving his point as he remembered those days. "You cried whenever you heard windchimes."

"I still don't like them. They make my ears feel like tiny bugs are crawling in them."

"Speaking of crawling, you never really did that. Instead, you'd scoot around on your behind until you got big enough to walk."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. Did not make changing your nappies very fun. Which also reminds me, you once had a nappy so disgusting that Captain Jack had to get a whole new couch afterwards."

"That's not true," Lucy giggled, her whole body shaking.

"It very much is. After that, he spearheaded the effort to get you potty trained." Will waited until her laughter died down before he continued, "You know what I remember most though? You were practically fearless. You never got nervous around new people. We could take you to fireworks or loud shows without you screaming like other kids your age. This one time at the park, you weren't even a year old, this huge mutt got away from its owner and went right up to your pushchair. Before I could shove him away, he got his face near you but instead of getting upset, you reached out to pat his nose with the biggest smile imaginable."

"Because animals are my favoritest things in the world." She took the scan for herself. "Do you think he'll like animals too?"

"I don't know." The idea of Lucy someday helping her brother pet a dog or kitten fortified him even more. "We'll find out when he gets here."

"In what will hopefully be the easiest, most pain-free delivery in the history of mankind," Elizabeth said as she joined them.

Whatever Will was about to retort was lost when she fully entered, making him (and by extension Lucy) stand up at attention. Even in her everyday island wardrobe of casual shirts and shorts, she robbed him of all sense of self; in the off-the-shoulder blue sundress she wore now though, he was amazed he hadn't gone cross eyed. Her hair was left long and flowing, a sheet of luscious waves he ached to run his fingers through and the small amount of make-up she applied set her face off to perfection.

"Y-You look lovely," he managed to say when he found his voice.

"Thanks." She adjusted the skirt that barely reached her knees. "I didn't want to be too fancy because it's Tortuga, but I wanted to look…well, I guess I wanted to look like a lady instead of all frumpy." He frowned in bemusement. What mirror was she looking in if she thought she looked like anything other than a goddess? "I suppose," she said, her eyes carefully trailing him head to toe, "that you clean up rather well yourself, Mr. Turner."

Will glanced down to his clean button-down shirt and jeans that he'd thrown on without attention. "What can I say? It's sort of fun to be pretty sometimes."

Lucy started dragging them out of the house before Elizabeth could answer beyond a radiant smile, barely stopping in the kitchen so Elizabeth could pull two boxes from the fridge. They were driving on the main roads when something occurred to Will. Glancing at her full lap, he asked, "Why did you bring two cakes?"

"Because one is off limits to the child and the pregnant lady." She lifted the lid slightly. "Jamaican rum-soaked cake with pineapple glaze. Figured Jack would get a kick out of it. Miss Lucy and I will be sharing a mixed berry cake with heaps of chocolate frosting."

"Sounds good. I might steal a slice myself."

"I don't mind, Will." At his raised eyebrow, she elaborated, "I've noticed how good about it you've been since I got here, but it's alright if you drink more than a beer in front of me."

"It isn't because of you." He glanced back to make sure Lucy was absorbed in her book before saying in a low voice, "My father drank. A lot. I never really had a taste for it, especially after she came. Couldn't afford to go out and spend my early twenties half in the barrel."

"Ah." She busied herself staring out the window for a time, watching the sun finally set until she spoke up again. "Will? Can I…Can I ask you something? And understand that as I'm asking, I'm not trying to be impertinent or nosy, I just really want to know."

His curiosity was only growing, especially when she refused to make eye contact. "Of course."

"Did you ever…You never felt bad because you were missing out on so many things, did you?"

They were slowing down now, making their way through streets crowded with people going out for dinner before starting their night of club or bar hopping. One large group of folks about his and Elizabeth's age passed by the front of the car, dressed to the nines and laughing loudly. If it weren't for decisions made (or rather, **not** made) in the middle of passionate moments, he very well could have been one of them.

"Did you know that Cape Farewell in Greenland is the windiest place on the whole planet?" Lucy chimed in from the backseat, her nose still buried in her child's almanac. "I bet they don't wear many hats there."

Will and Elizabeth both smiled. "Probably not, Lucy-Goosey," he told her. When the group finally made it to the sidewalk, Will pulled away. "No, not for a second," he explained quietly to Elizabeth. "If anything, I felt sorry for **them**. They had no idea what they were missing out on."

There was a more nuanced answer, of course; one that detailed the hardships and disadvantages of parenting so young. It was forgotten when Elizabeth gently placed her hand over his on the gear shift, sending sparks shooting up his arm.

He kept himself together enough to drive them all safely to Tortuga. Once inside, they made their way into the private dining room Ivy Morris had arranged for them, so Jack could have a private party. Having immediately spotted the dice in his hand, Lucy made a beeline for Gibbs while Elizabeth went back to the kitchens with Bria at Ivy's instructions to drop the cakes off, leaving Will alone with the owner.

"Congratulations," Ivy told him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. It was followed by a smack over his head. "Why didn't you tell me yourself when she came for dinner with you and Miss Lucy?"

"Because I didn't know if I'd ever see her again after that night."

"Please! I knew as soon as I saw you take her hand. She looked like she never wanted you to let her go."

Will squinted in disbelief. "What? What do you-?"

"Make ready! Make ready!" Jack glided into the room, Anamaria in her painted-on dress under one arm and a large flask in his other hand. "Your captain has arrived!"

"The captain had best remember something important," Ivy said as she sauntered over to him, poking him sharply in the chest. "If I see one stain on one inch of this room after you leave, Jack Sparrow, I'll make sure to cut off something you can't find a wooden replacement for."

"Oh…Ivy Morris, you delightful wench," Jack replied with a leer. She gave him a disgusted grunt as she walked back into the main restaurant and turned to Anamaria. "Love, you don't think that-"

"Nope." She silenced him with a finger to his lips, pressing her body even closer to him. "Besides, I've already gotten your birthday present and you can open it after dinner."

"Can't I just take it to the storage closet and open it there?" Jack punctuated his question by burying his face in Anamaria's neck, steadily moving down to the woman's great pleasure until Will had to intervene.

"Hey, mate?" He forcibly pulled Jack by the shoulder off his girlfriend. "Child in the room."

Jack dismissed him with a wave of his hand but released Anamaria, who promptly joined the other two women as they returned from the kitchen in forming a pack that headed out, probably to the loo. "So," Jack intoned, wrapping his newly-free arm around Will, leading him to the large round table already laden with appetizers, "I hear your loins have done their duty and created a lad. Cheers!"

"Cheers," Will repeated half-heartedly, raising a glass of water.

Jack clapped him hard on the back. "You won't screw him up, whelp. I mean, you will. Everyone screws up their progeny in some way, but not like Bootstrap done you."

Will checked the room, to make sure Elizabeth wasn't nearby and that the man himself wasn't there, pleased both things were true. "Well, let's keep that to ourselves tonight, alright?"

"I'm serious, William. You are an exceptional father and this child will know nothin' except happiness, as all children should."

Suspicious, Will took the flask from Jack's hand and sniffed it. "Broke out the absinthe, I see."

"It's for celebrations. Is that not what this is?" He spun in a woozy circle and Will stifled a laugh, handing him back the container. Jack would always be a character of his own creation. While that often meant bouts of extreme selfishness and humiliation, Will wouldn't change him for a treasure chest all his own. "Say, anythin' funny happen with Hank today?"

"Don't think so. Why?"

"He ain't comin'. Rang earlier and said he had to leave town tonight. Wouldn't make it to this shindig." Jack studied him under heavily-hooded eye. "You ruin this gig already, what with you not appreciatin' the attentions of that vulture he stuck on you?"

Will shuddered involuntarily. "He finally sacked her, thank God. I hated having her around Lucy today, making those comments and innuendos. Why are some people just incapable of taking a hint?"

This amused Jack greatly, if the guffawing was any indication. "I'll tell you somethin', whelp, many of us have been askin' that same question for quite some time now," he said, nodding to something across the table.

Will turned to find the three women huddled together as they reentered. He was instantly struck by the disparity in their expressions: Elizabeth was confused, Bria was fuming, and Anamaria shot him an apologetic look as they approached him. "It wasn't my fault," she said defensively. "Bria overheard something."

"What? Is there-?"

"What does Turner's T.O.L. stand for?" Bria asked him, arms crossed and frowning. Elizabeth, while not murderous with rage as her friend was, still seemed like she wanted an answer.

 _Damn it_ , he thought, desperately searching for a response that would be believable.

"I-It's nothing, I promise."

"Don't try that with me. I will lawyer your sorry arse into submission," Bria vowed. "Some twat saw Lizzie walk by and mumbled that to her table before laughing. What does it mean?"

Will glanced at Anamaria for confirmation. "Cadence Miller. You know, the one whose…"

"The one whose sprog had it out for Lucy?" Jack tsked and took another swig. "Vile bitch. Both, mind you, not just the grown one."

"I don't really care who said it, I just want to know what's being said about my best friend behind her back."

He was ready to lay into Bria for ruining this night with her prying and irritation when Elizabeth stepped forward to put her hand on his arm. "Please Will. Just tell me."

It really was impossible to refuse her anything. Did she know that? Did she understand that all she'd need to do was ask for the moon and he'd find a way to pull it down from the sky for her? Even when he merely wanted to shield her from mean-spirited gossip, her curiosity wouldn't let him. "It's just a stupid nickname some people came up with because they were bored and you were new here," he tried to stall.

"Will…"

Sighing, he finally said, "Taste of London."

Elizabeth blinked, her cheeks coloring but it was Bria who gasped, "Turner's Taste of London?! Are you joking?!"

"Briana, can you not-"

"Seriously, that's just filthy! What is she, a buffet spread?!"

"On that note, why don't we get something to eat?" Anamaria said, dragging her and Jack away before Will shoved his shoe in the woman's tactless mouth. Elizabeth still looked stunned and he hurried to reassure her.

"No one who matters thinks that. That's why I told Anamaria and the others not to say anything about it. I mean, people who really know you would never say or believe that-"

"I'm a woman from England who went and had raucous sex with a man she hardly knew?" Elizabeth rolled her eyes, grimacing with humiliation. "Because, truthfully, that's fairly accurate."

"No, it isn't," he insisted firmly, trying to control his sudden burst of annoyance. He wouldn't let anyone cheapen what they had experienced together, not even Elizabeth. "That wasn't what that night was, not a second of it."

Her blush receded, but a deep question was creeping up in her eyes as she kept them locked on his own. "What was it then?" she murmured. Her hand had never left his arm and he could feel it burning through him, a palpable energy in the air swirling around them, pushing them closer together. It was like traveling back in time to the Black Pearl, feeling that force stronger then gravity pulling him to her and nothing in him was strong enough to fight it.

Well, almost nothing.

"Daddy, when are we having dinner?" Lucy crashed into his legs, almost knocking him off-balance. He remained upright, but felt Elizabeth let him go.

"There's plenty of food right now, sweetheart," he said with a deep breath. He had never lashed out at her to relieve his own frustration and he wouldn't start now.

"Yes, but once dinner's over we can have cake," she explained as if it were obvious.

"Then let's go sit down." Elizabeth led her away, one hand playing at the bottom of her dress again. It only served to draw his focus back to her bare legs and that only brought him back to the memory of how sweet he knew she truly tasted.

 _Child in the room_ , he ordered himself when he felt his body start respond. _Well, one and a half._

He supposed it was lucky he took his time going to the table. The only seat left when he got there was across the way from Elizabeth. He didn't trust himself if he had to sit near her, plus it gave him ample room to enjoy the sight of Lucy sitting between Elizabeth and Bria. Every few minutes his daughter would pepper the redhead with questions and observations until the older woman finally had enough.

"Here, it's a phone, play with it." She thrust the device at Lucy who took it happily and began flicking through the various apps. Bria glared at Will. "Can you not control your offspring?"

"When she's annoying you? No, can't really say it's a priority."

"How's the shipyard these days, Will?" Gibbs asked to defuse the rising tension. "Everyone who works down there is raving about it."

"It's ace. Didn't know you could go to work and actually enjoy it. Well, enjoy most of it. This reporter Hank stuck me with was a nightmare."

"Your own fault you're so modest," Jack opined, languidly refilling his wineglass. "Was me in your shoes, the article would've been a novel. 'Sides, Tweedle-Dumb and Tweedle-Idiot over there," he nodded towards Pintel and Ragetti fighting over a dinner roll, "said when they saw her last week, she seemed like she'd be mighty fine company."

Will was saved from arguing by Lucy. "She wasn't, Captain Jack. She was very boring. All she wanted to talk about was what the ship was made of. She didn't even want to try and have a sea battle on it."

"That was her job, to write a story about the company and what we do, which is repair ships." The waiters brought in platters of food then and everyone started digging into the Caribbean cuisine.

"But she wouldn't even use a pirate voice when you took us on board," Lucy complained, putting down the phone to snag a bite of chicken that Elizabeth was putting on her plate. "She was no fun at all."

"I guess she was the exception to that rule about blondes having more fun," Elizabeth told her, filling her own plate and passing a platter over to Gibbs. "Unlike you, of course, poppet. And seeing as we're at a birthday, what are this evening's thought on yours?"

"Well, instead of having a peg-leg racing contest, I thought we could…" Lucy dominated the conversation like that for most of the meal, occasionally accepting suggestions or questions from the group. It wasn't until they were all completely stuffed and Elizabeth took Lucy to go get the birthday cake that Will frowned in realization.

How did Elizabeth know the reporter was blonde?

He thought back, trying to remember if he had ever mentioned the woman around her and came up short. It was possible Jack or one of the others had told her, but he couldn't think why they would. The only thing he could think of was…

 _Did she see Michelle today when she dropped Lucy?_ As soon as the idea crystalized, another even more ludicrous one took its place. _Did she…Did she leave_ _ **because**_ _of Michelle?_

Staring down at the table, he imagined what he'd do if he saw another man hanging around Elizabeth the way Michelle had been with him before Lucy arrived. As much as he considered himself a feminist – raising a strong, capable daughter and believing that all women should have the same rights as men – he knew with total certainty that he'd either pummel the man doing the flirting into the ground or flee to evade the sight.

Elizabeth had chosen to escape today.

She had reached for him the car before.

She'd dressed tonight like she knew all the parts of her that he had longed to glimpse again.

And just a little while ago, if Lucy hadn't interrupted them, he would have bet the next fifty years of his life that if he had tried to kiss her she would've allowed it. All those pieces fit into a puzzle; it was just one with undefined edges and a misshapen blob of color in the middle.

A birthday party wasn't the right place to contemplate it. After the cakes, there were toasts and gifts, followed by more toasts and old stories until they ended up with another round of toasts that saw Will the only adult not pregnant that was sober by the end of it. As was usually his duty at these gatherings, he fell into the role of designated driver. Once he saw Elizabeth and Lucy off safely driving Bria and her car back to the house, he rounded up the remaining pirates and herded them off to Pintel and Ragetti's flat to sleep it off. It left him time enough alone to consider how to approach Elizabeth when he arrived home but evidently not enough as Bria was waiting on his steps still in her finery when he got out of the car.

"Are you stealing my couch tonight?"

"Nope." Up close, he saw her take a puff of something before blowing the smoke up to him. "You guys have much better pot here than we have in the U.K. Jack was handing them out as party favors. Must have missed you."

"Don't bring that in the house. I don't want it around-"

"-the nuisance. I know. Lizzie already lectured me before she went to tuck it in to bed."

He rolled his eyes, too exhausted to deal with her tonight. "Do you want me to ring you a taxi?"

"I want you to answer me a question."

"Nope." With surprising speed, she braced her arm on the stairs and blocked his path to the house. "You're really the most unpleasant person I've ever met."

"Thank you. Most people just go with 'cunt'." Taking a long drag of the joint, she smiled lazily as the smoke elegantly escaped her lips. "Seriously, this is the best weed I've ever had in my life."

"What'll get me entrance into my own house? Because I can guarantee you, if you try and ask me anything else about what happened when Lucy was a baby-"

"Did Lizzie matter to you?"

Confusion cut off his tired rant. "Beg your pardon?"

"Did she matter to you? Before the bairn? Before she came back? Did she mean anything besides a warm body one night?"

He had such an urge to slap her across the face that he felt the muscles in his hand tense. Instead of lashing out violently, he called on all the patience he possessed and maneuvered over her outstretched arm. "Fuck off," he hissed over his shoulder.

"Because you mattered to her." Her words stopped him at the door, along with his heart. Slowly he turned and stood behind her as she explained, "I brought her here on holiday to get her to loosen up before she started her ill-fated law career. You see, she's always struggled with who she should be over who she really is, thanks to her dad and…and other things. Made it hard for her to enjoy life. I thought the whole trip was a waste until she followed you up those stairs. Finally, she was having fun and letting herself be free of those pointless restrictions she put on herself. Too much fun, as it turned out, but that's neither here nor there." Holding up the end of the joint, she offered it to him. "Last chance."

"I'm good." Silently, he urged her to take in as much of the cannabis as she could if it would get her to continue her story.

She coughed out the last of her inhale as she went on, "So, after we got home, I noticed something different about her: Lizzie would always zone off into her own head when she thought no one was watching. She's lived through more than you'd ever understand and every once in a while, she'd get all quiet and reflective to sort it all out. She was still doing that, only now you know what she was doing?" Bria chuckled to herself. "She was smiling. Her face would go all gooey and lovesick. It was pathetic." She glanced over her shoulder. "It was **you**. It was weeks of that. I kid you not, before the bairn made his existence known, I had a ticket booked to track you down to see if you were worth all the trouble."

"Really?"

"Truly. Then, of course, you were the wanker who got her up the duff and convinced her to turn her life upside down, so you became my enemy, which you shall be for all of time. But you aren't to her. To her, you are what she was missing all this time and when she hears some true cunt imply that she wasn't anything more to you than shag, it hurts her. Therefore, it hurts me, and it makes me want to – despite my better instincts – ensure that this is to you what it is to her." Dusting herself off, she stood delicately and met him face to face. "Ensure me that it is, and I'll be on my way this fine evening."

He didn't believe her. She (rightfully) hated him and there was not a chance – not a single chance – that Elizabeth could have felt an iota of the way Bria thought she did about him and kept it hidden all this time. It was just a game that Bria was playing with him, but before he thought it through, he said, "I'm not good enough for her."

Bria gave him a trace of a half-smile as she nodded in agreement. "No question." Sauntering down the stairs, she dug through her small handbag and walked along the grass. "The thing of it is though, Lizzie is perfect ergo no one will ever be good enough for her. So, why not you?"

There were so many questions he wanted to ask her; to tackle her to the ground and **make** her answer. Just as he made way to follow her, she turned back to him and displayed herself with two bright green gift ribbons attached to her dress over her breasts. He looked away in disgust when he realized where she was going and for what purpose.

"Seriously?" Will groaned as the mental images bombarded him. "You're really going-?"

"I've got to give it to Anamaria. Not many ladies secure enough to share their man with a woman for his birthday." She grinned devilishly. "Besides, now I get my own wild Arbor Bay Sex Story."

"Goodnight," Will said, shuddering. How was he ever going to stand in a room with the three of them without picturing what they'd do tonight? "Don't…Don't make this a regular thing, I beg of you."

"She won't say it first," Bria said sincerely, calling his attention back. "You'll have to get your nerve together because whatever issues you have don't hold a candle to Lizzie's. No matter how you look at her or how well you take care of her, she won't believe it until she hears the words. So, for the sake of her sanity, just say it." Throwing up a peace sign in farewell, she headed towards Jack's for a night Will would never try to think of again.

 _Madness_ , he thought walking slowly into his house, rubbing along his chest to ease the tightness in that his conversation had created. _She doesn't…She's having a run at you. Just plying you with all these ideas so you'll make a fool of yourself at some point and she can cash it in._

He washed himself up as quietly as he could and changed for bed before easing open Lucy's door, frowning when her bed was empty. Panic raced through his overworked nerves before he caught sight of the sliver of light from the television in Elizabeth's room. His curiosity rabid, he opened her door as quietly as he could but nothing he imagined prepared him for what he found inside.

Lucy's birth was still the purest vision of beauty he had ever witnessed in his life. Nothing would ever top it, seeing her come into the world, but he'd been to enough spots on the globe to have a handful of landscapes and scenic vistas that that he'd thought would have to battle for second.

He'd been wrong, though. So hopelessly and utterly wrong.

His feet carried him across the room, mouth hung slightly open in awe as he watched Elizabeth and Lucy cuddled together asleep on the bed, Lucy's hair tickling under Elizabeth's nose while she kept an arm thrown over the girl protectively. Operating unthinkingly, he tried to lift his daughter up from the mattress but even unconscious, Elizabeth would have none of it, her grip on Lucy strengthening even as her eyelids didn't flutter. He surrendered to her without a fight, sinking to his knees as he let himself take in this moment.

Perhaps – just perhaps – there was a kernel of truth to the ideas of Bria and everyone else in his life. Sitting down on the cool floor, the bright moonlight bathed them ethereally and tantalized Will with a look at a future he never could really believe possible, but one that he desperately wanted.

 _Need_ , he corrected himself, listening to the sound of the breaths mingling into a beautiful melody that made his chest tighten even more with the most delicious ache. _I_ _ **need**_ _them this way, always. But how?_

Lucy shifted, pressing herself closer to Elizabeth and Will adjusted the light blanket over them, brushing a bit of her hair back from his girl's tranquil face. Will had grown quite accustomed to second-guessing himself where Elizabeth's feelings were concerned but if it meant giving his fearless daughter the richer, happier life that came from having a whole family, he'd have to find to shed those insecurities and fast.

Because if he had to go much longer without the feeling of Elizabeth's lips beneath his own, he'd surely go mad.


	16. Chapter 16

**Ok, I could do a long note and apology, but let's just say life is life. As an offering of forgiveness, I give you the longest chapter yet. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think. We're really getting to the good parts. Thanks!**

* * *

 _Elizabeth felt the weight shift on the bed. Opening her bleary eyes to the darkness of the late hour, she just made out Will lifting a slumbering Lucy into his arms. "Don't," she whispered, reaching out weakly to him. "She can just-"_

" _Have a more restful night safe and sound in her own room," he countered, his gentle tone brokering no argument as he took his daughter away. Sighing, she burrowed back into her pillow to reclaim her sleep when she remembered something and rose, her muscles protesting along with the old floorboards._

 _Tiptoeing into the hallways, she blindly reached for the door of the third bedroom when warm arms wrapped around her waist, tugging her back against an even warmer bare chest. "Will…" she admonished, smiling when his lips traced her shoulder._

" _I checked on him already. He's fine."_

" _He'll be up soon for a feed, screaming and shouting for all the world to hear." Despite her words, she didn't fight as he began leading them back towards their room, shutting the door behind them with his foot._

" _No, that'll be you in a few minutes." His hands wandered up inside her short nightgown over her taut stomach, lighting her skin on fire and she turned in his embrace._

" _You think rather highly of yourself." Without warning, she shoved him back onto the bed, quickly straddling him to his apparent delight and leaning down to brush her nose along his. "I might have to teach you a lesson."_

" _By all means, Mrs. Turner." His hands went to her hips as she straightened, watching through hooded eyes as she teasingly began to remove the flimsy garment. When it was finally thrown to the floor, he smiled softly, laying his hand over her cheek while pulling her down for a searing kiss…_

It was Elizabeth's own gasp that pulled her back into reality. Searching quickly, she saw she was alone and pulled the pillow over her head, groaning and squirming at the state the passionate fantasy left her body in. A cold shower would be her only remedy and she hustled into the safe confines of the loo. Though the dream was a hazy blur by the time she opened her eyes, it had still sent her hormones into overdrive. It took a good half hour before she felt that the cool water had done its job, finally dressing and wringing her damp hair out as she walked through the house. A joyous cry rang from outside and she went to the sliding door, smiling at what she saw.

Saturday mornings were for Will and Lucy. With work taking up so much of his time during the week, he had made it a priority to give Lucy his full attention on the weekends, offering himself up to any activity she had in mind. Today, it had clearly been swimming, the two of them frolicking together in the early morning surf. While the sight of Will wet and partially clothed made it difficult to banish her nocturnal lusts, she kept them at bay by focusing on the tender affection displayed between father and daughter, smiling wider as Will scooped a giggling Lucy up into his arms to spin them both around. It was only the loud rumbling of her stomach that pulled her away to the kitchen.

From the lack of dishes, Elizabeth could tell they hadn't eaten before going out. She set to making a hearty breakfast for the three of them, frying up a bit of bacon and cutting up fresh fruit for a salad. It was as she was mixing up a batter for pancakes, with Will and Lucy's laughing chatter growing louder as they walked up to the back deck to dry off, that a memory long forgotten from childhood resurfaced and her smile became bittersweet.

Elizabeth had a new appreciation for the word lately. As her pregnancy moved along, she was remembering more and more of the little things about her mother that had been suppressed under the weight of losing her. As happy as many of those memories were, she still wasn't used to the stab of hurt that came along with them. Perhaps if she had someone if her life now that had known her mother that she could reminisce with, it would be easier, but as Father couldn't seem to be bothered with her anymore, she was left alone with her thoughts.

 _No_ , she surmised as Will and Lucy finally entered the house, dripping and wearing shirts over their suits, _I suppose I'm not that_.

"Morning," she told them, flipping the pancakes on the griddle. "Hope you worked up an appetite in the waves."

Lucy eyed the bacon rapturously until Will steered her towards the loo. "Wash your hands first, under your nails and everything." She grumbled unhappily but raced off while her father scrubbed his own at the kitchen sink. "You didn't have to make anything," he said quietly, his proximity to Elizabeth almost dizzying. "I was going to-"

"I don't mind," she said simply, moving utensils to the table. Corrine's voice from yesterday popped in her head, telling her how nice it was to see her taking care of Will; she had no idea how much Elizabeth relished in the act itself.

"Thanks. Uh, and you didn't need to let Lucy…last night, I mean." Elizabeth glanced over to see him wiping his hands with entirely too much concentration. "She gets in these phases sometimes where she'll guilt you about seeing monsters or bad dreams and before you know it, your ribs are bruised from her kicking you in her sleep for a week straight."

Lucy crawling into her bed, cuddling into her for nights on end, warming that spot over her heart that she hadn't realized was frozen until they met? Elizabeth waited until Will was finally facing her before she repeated, "I don't mind."

Nodding, he took a step towards her until they were almost as close as they had been last night at Tortuga. He smelled of the sea and sunlight and a thousand other things that Elizabeth couldn't name but loved all the same. "You really don't, do you?" Will asked in a low voice, sending pleasant tingles racing along her arms.

Right when she was set to do something positively stupid and press up against him – like she had been about to last night until Lucy interrupted them – history repeated itself when the child wandered back into the kitchen. "Are there pancakes? I smelled pancakes and if you made them, Elizabeth, I would like some please."

For a second, Elizabeth could've sworn she saw disappointment in Will's eyes as he walked away from her to get milk and juice from the fridge. "And what's wrong with my pancakes, young lady?"

"Well, sometimes they just tasted…" Lucy munched on a piece of bacon as she thought for a moment, "not good."

Elizabeth barely held her laughter in at the put-out look on poor Will's face. Before he could retort, she jumped in. "Actually, I'm not making you pancakes."

"You're not?" Lucy whined.

"Nope." Setting the finished food on a plate, she presented it with great fanfare to Lucy. "I made name-cakes."

Both Turners frowned in confusion until Lucy looked down and gasped in delight to see four small pancakes in the shape of the letters that spelled her name. "That's me! I get to eat myself for breakfast!"

"That's one way to put it, I suppose," Elizabeth said as she set syrup and jam on the table. "When I was little, my mum made them for me. I thought you'd like them."

Elizabeth felt Will's gaze soften when she mentioned her mother, but it was Lucy who was at her side in a flash, wrapping her arms around Elizabeth's waist and squeezing. "I love them. Thank you."

"You're very welcome." Memories of her mother holding her tried to press in, but she held them back by stroking down Lucy's soft hair. "I'm glad you like them, toon."

"Hey!" Lucy suddenly pulled back, frowning. "Your mummy would make…" Counting to herself with her hands, she huffed indignantly, "NINE name-cakes just for you?!"

"No, I only got four," Elizabeth told her, pushing back the brief sting of tears as she remembered so clearly the sound of her mother's voice as they would take breakfast together. "She always called me Liza. It was her special name for me."

"That's pretty." Lucy pointed at Elizabeth's stomach. "How many will he get when he's born?"

"Um…Well, I-"

"We don't know what his name is yet," Will interjected. "Remember, he's just mango-sized; still too little for a name." Mollified, Lucy started pouring her own juice under Will's supervision while Elizabeth finished making breakfast, sighing to herself.

 _You_ _ **do**_ _have a real name, Shelf,_ she thought when the last of the pancakes were done. No other name besides William seemed good enough for him, no matter Will's misgivings. _I'll bring your father around to it, mark my words._

Their quiet peace was broken up by a haggard-looking Bria crashing through the front door, loudly yawning and stumbling her way to them, the clothes she wore the previous night wrinkled beyond redemption. "Coffee," she ordered hoarsely to Will, collapsing into a chair. "Skip the mug, just hand me the bloody pot."

"That's a bad word, Bria," Lucy scolded gently.

"Yeah, well you can…What the eff are you doing?!" Bria groaned as Lucy climbed into her lap and pulled the plate of name-cakes closer, forgoing a fork to dip them in syrup and eat with her clean hands. Bria looked to Will. "Can you command it to get off me?"

"Why should I?" Greatly amused, he took a sip from his own steaming mug and sat down. "You are in her seat."

The woman turned her pleading eyes to her best friend. "Lizzie?"

Elizabeth only took slight pity on her by handing her coffee and some bacon. "Why are you here this early? You don't look-" Understanding dawned on her suddenly: the weeks of shameless flirting; Anamaria chatting her Bria up yesterday; Jack's mysterious birthday present that Will didn't want her to know about; all that coupled with Bria's disheveled appearance added up to one obvious yet nauseating conclusion.

Groaning, Elizabeth eased into her chair. "Ugh! Really?!"

"What's wrong?" Lucy asked innocently.

"Nothing," Will and Elizabeth answered simultaneously. At this, Bria spared a grin and Elizabeth shot her a menacing frown. "Bria is just the most ridiculous person in the whole world and she makes me want to rip her hair out sometimes."

"You can't do that!" With her syrup-free hand, Lucy petted Bria's unkempt scarlet locks. "She has the prettiest hair in the Caribbean. It's like the color of strawberry jam, only better."

"Whatever," Bria grumbled around her coffee.

"Are you going to play with us today?"

"Nope, I'm all played out from last night. I…" For once, Bria faltered under the flare of Elizabeth's nostrils and Will's scowl. "I-I mean, I'm very tired from the party and I'm going to take a nap in Lizzie's bed."

"That's where I slept last night! It was very comfy."

At this, Bria raised an eyebrow to her friend. "Did you now? All by your lonesome?"

"No, silly, it's her bed so she was there. We started to watch a Christmas movie about the real Santa who was pretending to be a store Santa, but we fell asleep before it was finished." She turned to Elizabeth with syrup all stuck to her chin. "Can we watch the rest later?"

There was no way to be annoyed with Bria when she had such an adorable child in front of her. "Of course," Elizabeth told Lucy, reaching over to wipe the sticky substance off her with a wet napkin. "Never too early to get into the holiday spirit."

"Says the woman who starts stringing Christmas lights up in her flat the day after Halloween." She stole the rest of Will's bacon as she told him, "Be warned, the delicious holiday biscuits come with a price and that price is her utter derangement."

"I remember fondly what life was like before I met you," Will said, taking his now empty plate to the sink. "I hope to someday experience it again." His phone buzzed, and he read through a text, frowning.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked.

"Nathaniel. He found someone selling the brass fixtures he's been needing for one of the ships, but the guy's only in Kingston today. Since Hank's out of town, he wants me to go with him to handle the money end." Lucy was too focused on finishing her last name-cake to notice the guilty look her father threw to her, but Elizabeth was already two steps ahead of him.

"Say, you know what I was thinking, Lucy? Bria is probably going to be leaving soon and we haven't had a chance to have a Girls' Day with her, just the three of us. Do you think we could have one today?"

"What do you do on a Girls' Day?"

"Yes, Lizzie, what do we do on a Girls' Day?" Bria asked suspiciously.

"We go shopping," she replied temptingly, knowing it was Bria's kryptonite, "then we have lunch, and then best of all, we share a giant ice cream sundae at Dulzura. How does that sound?"

Lucy's eyes widened at the thought of ice cream, but Bria was a tougher sell. "Manicures, pedicures, and facials. Non-negotiable."

"Just manicures, nothing else. This one," she smiled at Lucy, "will get very bored with all that."

"Manicures and pedicures, and may I remind you that I still have a photo of you from Alison Crawford's hen night six years ago."

Unfazed, Elizabeth nodded. "Just manicures; you're now paying for them because of that blackmail attempt; and may **I** remind **you** that I still have the video of you from Glasgow last summer." Bria grimaced in remembrance. "Personally, I think that your nan would get a kick out of it."

Bria sighed in acquiescence. "Suppose it's my own fault for teaching you my evil ways. Come on, then." She drained her coffee and stood on wobbly legs, ushering Lucy along. "I'm finding you something presentable to wear if we're going to be in public together. What do you have in your everyday mainstays that's aubergine?"

"I don't know what some of those words mean."

"What have I done to deserve this punishment?" Before Elizabeth could open her mouth, Bria called back, "Do not say a word!"

At the click of the bedroom door, Elizabeth smiled down at her food, spearing a bit of mango. "I promise I won't let Bria do any permanent damage," she told Will.

"Thanks. And, uh, I'm sorry for the last minute…you know."

"I thought I already told you that I don't mind?" His half-smirk sent her insides reeling, leaving her mind to grasp for something to say so she didn't throw him down across the table. "Hope the three of them were smarter last night about protection than we were."

Will gaped at her for a beat before he winced. "Please don't. Breakfast was lovely, I'd like it to stay where it is."

"So, every year, that's Jack's present? A night of debauchery with Anamaria and the woman of his choice?"

"Her choice. In their relationship, she's always been the captain." Elizabeth nodded, nibbling on one of the last pieces of bacon, frowning at the taste as Will continued, "You're not terribly weirded out by it, are you? The two of them and Bria…"

"Sharing carnal knowledge?" She shrugged, standing to grab the peanut butter from the cabinet. "If I stopped speaking to everyone I knew that Bria's had inappropriate sex with, I never would have been able to speak to three different neighbors, the waiter at my favorite café in London, or the headmaster of my boarding school." As she dipped the bacon in, Will raised a curious eyebrow and she shrugged, patting her stomach before taking a big bite. "What? He likes it."

Stepping into her space once again, she watched his hand tentatively reach for the swell; at her small nod, his fingers grazed over their child and she smiled unsteadily as the baby fluttered. "Moving around?" Will asked off her look.

"I guess he likes you, too," she said, desperately trying to keep her voice from becoming breathless

"Hope so." It was hard to miss the wistfulness in his tone. Combined with the quick look of panic she'd briefly spotted on him at the scan yesterday and his avoidance of the name subject, Elizabeth could only imagine how fraught his relationship with his own father must have been.

"You're going to be his hero, just like you're Lucy's," she promised. Gently, she traced his knuckles until his dark eyes locked with hers.

 _Kiss him!_ Her mind screamed as her body froze under the onslaught of his nearness. _Kiss him before he comes to his senses! Kiss him or you might never get this moment back!_

Just as she worked up her nerve, Bria shouted, "LIZZIE! GET IN HERE! IT'S TRYING TO HUG ME AGAIN!"

The spell shattered, Elizabeth blinked and backed away from him, turning quickly so her embarrassment wouldn't be too obvious. "I, uh, better go break that up."

"It shouldn't take all day, this thing with Nathaniel," she heard Will say. "I could meet up with you guys at the café or something?"

"S-Sure," she threw back over her shoulder, needing some space from him.

Well, that wasn't true. It was just the things that she truly needed from him at this moment would make an adult film star (or Bria) blush. Yet even hormonally charged, aching for nothing more than Will's body covering every inch of hers, something struck her like a bolt of electricity:

He hadn't run away from her.

Not the night before, when she'd dressed to see if it was possible to get some kind of reaction from him; or in the car or Tortuga, when he had let her touch him; or just a moment ago, when their hands lay over their truest connection. Her obvious, unrelenting desire for him wasn't frightening to Will. If anything, it almost looked like he would have welcomed her lips on his with open arms.

 _No, no, no!_ Elizabeth's mind tried to warn her. _You're just projecting onto him. There's no way this is actually possible…right?_

Then why, later that day as she was walking the storefronts in the ritzier part of town Bria insisted on taking them, did she keep seeing Will's face on the mannequins? Why did she keep checking her phone to see if he was out early? Why did she have to keep telling herself that he was working and that she shouldn't call him? Why was her anxiousness to see him again tempered with bits of dread?

Because deep down – as terrifying as it was to admit – she knew the truth of it:

Something had changed between them.

Perhaps it was the understanding that literally everyone in their lives wouldn't let them ignore it, or maybe the blasted pregnancy hormones that refused to be silenced any longer, or even just the inevitable pull of the universe that had brought them together in the first place. Whatever the culprit, there was no going back to mere friendship. The time for that had long passed; hell, they had probably raced by it the day she agreed to live with him. Now was the time to see if there was room for something more, an idea that had Elizabeth berating herself because she knew how inherently selfish it was to see what Will's feelings for her amounted to. They'd be risking all the good they had created over these weeks; risking the future she'd given up her life to provide for her son and risking the stability to Lucy's world if things between she and Will soured.

It was madness to consider. The sensible, maternal part of her heart raged at her for putting so much in jeopardy just because she was daft enough to want to listen to her baser instincts.

Yet as she wandered through the maternity section of a dress shop, her eyes caught sight of a lavender dress with generous cleavage and a scandalously short hemline. Fingering it carefully, she remembered the look on Will's face when he saw her last night in her less-than-demure ensemble. His eyes had practically devoured her legs while the sight of him in a well-fitting shirt and jeans had almost sent her into hysterics. It was only Lucy – once again – that had kept her in check. Holding the dress up, she studied herself in the mirror and wondered what Will would think of her in it. No matter how well-intentioned or strident her fears were, the idea of wearing that dress for Will on a night together of dinner and dancing was all she could think of.

She wanted that night. She wanted it enough to trade away a limb. Mostly though, she wanted Will and more than what they had together now.

She just had no idea how to go about getting it.

"Coronary." Elizabeth glanced at Bria studying her over her shoulder. "An aneurysm is possible, but I think Sexy Bar Man's cause of death will be a coronary if he sees you in that."

"You're a beast." Making sure Lucy was occupied with Bria's phone a few feet away from them, she whispered quietly, almost shyly, "Do you really think he'd…? I mean, I know I'm getting all fat and -"

"Please! You look fabulous! I'd worry you weren't eating enough if I hadn't been sharing meals with you." Bria played with her blonde hair, pulling it up to show off her slender neck. "He can't stop looking at you, my dear. It's quite pathetic. I'd almost feel sorry for him except I have no soul."

"Yes, you do." Elizabeth smiled, secretly thrilled. Bria wouldn't lie to her and if she said that it was possible Will could feel something for her – even if right now it was only attraction – Elizabeth believed her. "You're the best girl in the whole world."

"If you say so." Moving quickly, she snatched the dress away from Elizabeth. "I'm getting it for you."

"Bria, I can afford my own clothes."

"Perhaps, but if I keep holding on to all my riches, I'll begin to look uncouth." She snapped her fingers twice at Lucy to beckon her forward. "Hand it back. You best not have killed any of my farm animals."

"No, I turned the game off. It was boring." The three stood in the small line at the register for a moment when Lucy spoke again, "Bria, I thought you didn't like birdies."

"I don't," the woman replied off-handedly, scrolling through her email.

"Oh." Lucy flexed her hand inside of Elizabeth's, swinging their arms a little back and forth. It wasn't until the cashier was ringing them up that she elaborated, "If you don't like birdies, why does your phone have a picture folder that's called 'Peckers'?"

Bria froze with her credit card in midair while Elizabeth contemplated how much mercy a judge would have for a pregnant woman murdering her former best friend. The women were all frozen in terrified silence, even the poor cashier, as Lucy stared up at them all, waiting for an answer that none of them could give.

"D-D you look at it?" Elizabeth finally dared to ask the child, pasting a fake smile on, praying that Will loved their son enough to forgive her for this.

"No. Auntie Ana says it's rude to look through someone's phone." Elizabeth nearly fell over in relief, catching Bria letting out a sigh as she finished her transaction, the cashier winking at them in jest. "Why do you like taking pictures of birdies?"

"Because," Bria said, taking the bag and handing it to Elizabeth as they left the store, the flash of mischief plain in her eye, "sometimes you come across one that's an unusual shape or size, and you want to show people in case they don't believe you when you tell them."

"But what kind of birdies do you see that-?"

"Look, there's the candy shop!" Elizabeth exclaimed happily, pointing ahead to divert Lucy's attention. "Why don't we be a bit naughty and get some taffy to bring home? Go up to the window and see if they're making any fresh." Lucy raced forward, giving Elizabeth the chance to pinch Bria sharply in the side. "If you do anything like that again with her, I will tell your grandmother where she can find the copy of the sex tape you made in her guest house."

That sobered Bria up faster than any coffee could. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Didn't mean to cross the line."

They stopped a few feet away from the window. Elizabeth watched Lucy smile gleefully at the simple sight of candy, sighing softly. There was so much in the world that would fight to take that innocence away from her and while she could head off something like what Bria had almost let happen, there were a host of others Elizabeth couldn't protect Lucy from. She well remembered how devastated Lucy had been from just being teased by her classmates just weeks ago and how painful it had been for Elizabeth to see her in that state; what would she do when Lucy had her first fight with her best friend? Her first real fight with Will? Her first teenage heartbreak? Or, God forbid, something even worse?

Would Elizabeth even be there for any of it?

If she wore the lavender dress for Will and he didn't feel anything for her other than momentary desire, she most likely wouldn't be. Yet, if she just put the dress in the back of her closet to forget about, the odds were even greater that someday down the line, another woman would find her way into Will and Lucy's lives.

 _No_ , Elizabeth though, leaving Bria to crouch down beside Lucy. _No one else could ever feel the way I do for them. I just need to convince Will that it's true._

"Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"Can we please get a few caramels too? Pretty please?" She batted her eyelashes up in such a way that Elizabeth couldn't help spoiling her.

"Of course we can, poppet." Elizabeth hugged her tight, loving the scent of her beach-warm body as much as she did Will's, just in a different way. "That's what a Girls' Day is for."

"Then we should have lots of them," Lucy concluded, letting go to pull Elizabeth into the shop.

After getting the candy and indulging in a truly wonderful manicure, the trio began a leisurely walk back to Dulzura. While Bria led Lucy inside, still chiding her for selecting a bright shade of blue, Elizabeth stayed outside to check her phone again to see if Will had called when a voice behind her stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Ah, Miss Swann." Slowly, she turned to find Cutler Beckett, her father's head of security, standing before her in a perfectly pressed suit, his mouth turned down in a perpetual scowl. "How lovely to see you again after so long."

Before she could speak, a taller figure joined him, equally well-dressed with his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Hello, Elizabeth," James said to her. "How are you?"

"What are you doing here?" she asked without thinking, her brain having trouble catching up to the fact that two of her father's employees were here in Arbor Bay. One terrible thought broke free and she struggled to get out, "Is my…Is Father…Did something-?"

"He's in New York on business," Beckett said without emotion. "We traveled with him and he asked us to fly down here for the afternoon to check on you while he's in meetings."

"O-Oh." The flood of relief she felt should have been enough to ease her, but the sight of her father's minions, as she had always thought of them, brought something dark to the surface. "He couldn't get away himself?"

"Elizabeth, people the world over depend on him executing his job to the highest degree," James reminded her, speaking to her as if she were Lucy's age, something he'd always done. "He's a high-ranking British official with enormous influence over the global financial markets. He cannot just at the drop of a hat decide that he'd like to-"

"Come see his only child for the first time in months? Speak to her? Think of her at all even?"

"I can promise you have been foremost on his mind since you've been gone."

"He has a funny of showing it. Refusing to answer phone calls and letters isn't just indifferent, it's downright childish."

"Well, you would be the expert on adult behavior, wouldn't you, Miss Swann?" Beckett quipped, giving her stomach a pointed look.

Elizabeth bristled, but her longstanding feelings of inferiority chose to rear their monstrous heads. A scolding from Beckett – always an extension of Father's own wishes – had never failed to make her feel like a misbehaving toddler.

"We're not here to cause you any distress," James said diplomatically. Gesturing over to a more secluded corner away from the café, she followed the pair of them to continue a discussion that was already bringing on a headache. "Despite what you may believe, I assure that your father has been greatly concerned about you since he learned of your…situation."

"My child," she corrected, laying a hand over her bump as if to shield him from their judgement. "My son, actually, if that matters to him at all."

James nodded slowly. To Elizabeth, it almost looked as if he was pleased for her. "Congratulations," he said with a trace of gentleness.

"Thank you."

"Yes, all due congratulations on your lovechild," Beckett broke in. "That is not why we are here, though."

"Well, you can tell Father that you've done your job: you've checked on me, I'm here, and I'm healthy. If there's anything else, he can call me."

"He would also like us to ask you to examine your current living arrangements."

"Excuse me?"

"You have been living in near-squalor for months in a non-industrialized country with uncultured strangers. He would merely like to ensure that-"

"Will and Lucy are **not** strangers," Elizabeth cut in vehemently. "They're my…They're my son's family, his father and his sister. Do not dare disrespect them in my presence again."

"Elizabeth, we are only asking – on your father's behalf – to consider his prospective on the matter."

"Which is what?"

James searched for the words, looking to be tactful under the sternness of Elizabeth's gaze. "Whatever his reaction to your news was, you were angry over it. In that anger, you left your home and only family behind. Your father simply wants to know that it is not that anger that still keeps you here; that your willfulness is not what's keeping you from your life in London."

"What life is that exactly? The one he picked out for me without even bothering to ask if it was what **I** wanted?"

"Ah, there she is." Beckett smiled sardonically. "Elizabeth Swann, Perpetual Victim of the Elite. How I've missed her."

Elizabeth's jaw clenched to the point where her teeth ached, her hand itching to slap his smug face into the yellow wall behind him. To Beckett, Elizabeth had merely been a possession of Weatherby Swann's. Whatever feelings she may have had regarding his security intrusions into her life were ignored. In Cutler Beckett's world, she had no feelings. She was a doll that her father wanted guarded and watched at all costs, a job he took to heart as he was doing now.

Amazingly, James spoke up before she could spit out a reply. "Cutler, that is terribly unnecessary and counterproductive. There's no cause to be-"

"What, Mr. Norrington? Truthful? Blunt? We are here at her father's service, under his pay, to carry out his wishes and his wish is for his adult daughter to begin behaving like one."

"And his version of adulthood involves what?"

"Settling your affairs here and returning to London with all due haste."

Elizabeth blinked wildly, letting out a bark of laughter until it died at the seriousness in both men's' expressions. "You're mad," she finally managed to say.

Beckett frowned in disgust. "And you're a lovestruck fool playing house with a glorified carpenter while the result of another of his indiscretions runs around underfoot. You had a life of wealth and privilege most would die for, yet you threw it all away for a filthy fuck with a man not even worthy to polish your father's shoes."

"Cutler, that isn't-" James tried to say, but Beckett plowed ahead.

"By the grace of a God that pities you, your father is ready to forgive you for your actions. He'll support you financially until after the child is born and you find work again. You'll be welcome at either of his homes, you'll have excellent medical care, and your father will even provide a nanny for any assistance with childrearing that you most assuredly will need, Miss Swann. Unless, of course, you are capable of listening to reason and agree that giving the child up for adoption is best for-"

This time, the slap wouldn't be held back. Elizabeth put years of frustrations into it, her palm on fire nearly as much as her soul was. "Never," she warned the reeling man, "come near us again."

Her sharp turn away was cut off by the oily hand that suddenly grabbed her wrist.

"You insolent brat!" Beckett hissed, tightening his grip and backing her into the concrete. His diminutive size masked his strength and Elizabeth struggled to free herself.

"That's enough!" James cried, attempting to break them apart. Beckett's hold on her became painful and Elizabeth felt her heart pound with fear over adrenaline.

"Has being here given you a sense power? A sense that you are somehow better than what you are? That what you want is-?

Whatever else he was going to ask would forever be a mystery. Before he could finish, Elizabeth made out the blur of ferocious anger that was Will as he grabbed Beckett by the neck in a chokehold and forced him against the wall.

* * *

The phone was burning a hole in Will's pocket. All throughout the day, while he and Nathaniel had negotiated with the seller in Kingston, to now as he sat impatiently in the café, Will had been fighting the urge to call Elizabeth. Not to check on how she was doing with Lucy; there was no one he trusted with her more, including, to his own amazement, Jack and Anamaria. No, all he wanted now was to hear her voice.

The groundwork had been laid the night before, but it wasn't until this morning, seeing her fresh and clean from the shower while she hastened to reassure him that their son would love him, that it finally began to click for Will. Maybe she wasn't reaching out for him the way he desperately was for her, but these past days, she wasn't pulling away either. Hell, maybe she hadn't been for a long time and he was just too stupid to notice. Something in her was ready to move towards a future that included **him** , Will Turner the man, not just her baby's father. It could be that Bria was misreading her and it wasn't the all-encompassing love that he felt for her, but it was something at least. Patience had been ingrained in him for years; if Elizabeth needed time, she could have all she wanted. He just prayed that she was at least ready for something physical because Lord knows, Will certainly was. Without intervention earlier, he would have taken her in the kitchen, finally able to see if her lips were as soft as he remembered them.

He couldn't help smiling as he thought of his daughter as an intervention. It still surprised him how quickly and firmly Lucy had bonded with Elizabeth. Corrine had been right when she said there was female attention that Lucy had unknowingly craved when Elizabeth came into their lives. Since she was a baby, she had always been possessive of the things she considered hers; Elizabeth seemed to fall into that category nowadays. As had always been the case, what Lucy wanted took precedence so if she wanted to monopolize Elizabeth's time...Will could let his overactive libido say he hated it but seeing her shower Lucy with things like name-cakes and Girls' Days only made him love Elizabeth more. It also made him wonder, had he had the inclination to pursue a relationship before this, if Lucy would've latched onto another woman in the same way. Almost immediately, though, he dismissed such an idea.

 _There's no one else like Elizabeth_ , Will thought, pulling out his phone, wanting to get in touch with her but not wanting to pull her away from Lucy at all. As he debated with himself, Anamaria sidled over with a cup of coffee and a plate of lunch for him.

"Call her, _idiota_ ," she ordered, looking none worse the wear from Jack's birthday festivities. Will didn't know how she kept up sometimes with him all these years. Although, perhaps, the better question was how Jack kept up with **her**.

"They're doing shopping and some girly shit with Bria. No boys allowed, even over the phone."

"Huh." Anamaria took a reflexive sip of her drink. "Surprising. Didn't think the redhead would be able to walk upright for a few days after last night."

At that, the fork Will had over his food clattered to the table and he pushed the food away. "Thanks for that."

"Forgive me for having a sex life." Checking to make sure the café was covered, Anamaria slid across from him. "So last night, nothing happened between you and…?" Her eyebrows wagged suggestively, falling when Will shook his head.

"After I dropped all the drunk pirates off, she was already asleep with Lucy sprawled out with her. Not exactly a time to talk about what kind of future we have, if any."

"Well, in my opinion – which you've been avoiding because you're stupid – that's your problem right there, _mi hijo_."

"What?"

"You're so worried about what's going to happen in that scary future of yours, that you're not focused on the here and now with her."

"Things aren't just going to fall into place when the baby comes," Will argued with a sigh. He was so tired of fighting this battle with himself. For the first time in ages, he wanted something…nay **someone** for himself, but he risked both his children's happiness if they couldn't make a go of it. "Whatever…If there is a chance at…at…"

"Happily ever after?" Anamaria quipped unhelpfully.

"Being more than just parents to a child, there's a lot that needs to land in our favor."

"Exactly! You're bypassing all the little steps, just speeding ahead to the endgame and before you say a word, yes, I know that the endgame will be here in less than five months but that's still plenty of time for a few little steps."

"Like what?"

Anamaria smirked over the rim of her drink. "Have you ever considered asking her on a date?"

 _Huh?_

"Huh?" Will asked inelegantly.

"A date. Dinner, drinks, dancing, although minus the drinks in her case. Maybe it'll help relax her if you show her you can do something with a woman besides bang and bail," she said pointedly.

He grimaced, knowing he deserved that. "Ouch."

"Tough love, _mi hijo_. Just go out and be two people who want to have a good time." Anamaria leaned in close. "Let her see that you would've been this crazy about her if she hadn't come back pregnant. Let her see that **she's** owned you since the moment you met her." Her pep talk complete, she left him to stare into the table, letting her message take root:

He imagined Elizabeth in the blue dress she'd worn last night, only this time they'd sit at a table in a nice restaurant, just him and her, no interventions. People would look at the pair of them and know that they were together. The other men in the room would all be insanely jealous of Will to be keeping such company, but he wouldn't care about anything except Elizabeth's sweet smile or her fingers nervously playing with her glass of water the way they had with her drink at the Black Pearl. After dinner, they'd find themselves walking and they'd wind up at the end of Brackmoore Pier, like the day she'd first come back; Elizabeth would be radiant, her eyes darkening when he finally reached out to cup her cheek and –

"Daddy, did you hear me?" Will was startled from his daydream to find Lucy in front of him, proudly holding out her fingernails for display. "Look, they're the same color as the ocean!"

"G-Gorgeous," Will said, shaking his head to clear it. He kissed her fingers loudly. "Did you have a good Girls' Day?"

"Uh-huh. Bria was going to teach me to play Bag Lady. It's a game where you see who can carry the most bags and Bria was going to give me a head start by letting me carry all of hers, but Elizabeth didn't want to play so we didn't. Bria kept asking, 'Why'd we bring her then?' and then she'd whisper bad words to herself when Elizabeth wasn't paying attention." Lucy giggled and played with the stubble of his goatee. "It was funny."

Will looked up in annoyance for the woman but only found her staring intently out the large picture window, without Elizabeth at her side, which set Will on guard.

Directing Lucy towards the kitchen, he said, "Why don't you go show Auntie Ana your nails? I bet she'll be jealous."

Once she was off, he went to join Bria, every sense on high alert when he saw Elizabeth outside having what looked like an unpleasant conversation with two men, both completely out of place in the island community with their suits and chalky complexions. "They work for her father," he heard Bria say after a moment. "The tall one that could almost pass as a human being is James Norrington, his chief of staff. Most of Lizzie's communication with her dad goes through him, at least it did before she came here."

"And the other one?"

"Cutler Beckett. Runs his security. Always tried to keep her on a stiflingly tight leash at Daddy's request."

"What does he need security for?"

"Good Lord, he's one of the most powerful men in Europe and one of the most private," Bria scoffed. "He's helped finance the careers of government officials all over the continent. No major trade deals or financial negotiations in the UK happen without Weatherby Swann's input. Haven't you ever asked her about her own father?"

"No." Will's eyes followed Elizabeth as she was led further away from the building, hating the frustrations he could plainly read on her face. "Didn't really care to know anything about the guy who wanted my kid aborted."

"Excuse me?"

"Her father wanted her to terminate after she told him," Will replied without looking at Bria. "We never really talked about it, but I think it was one of the reasons she decided to come here, to get away from him physically even if she kept trying to get in touch with him since."

"She never told me," Bria said, almost to herself.

"I imagine it's something she doesn't like thinking about."

"They've never had the easiest relationship. After her mother passed, he wanted to keep her close, even if he was practically choking her to do it, and she was so terrified of him not loving her that she finally gave in. She let him mold her into this placid version of herself, no matter how miserable it made her. I really thought she'd never break free of it all." Will felt her glance sideways at him. "Then, of course, you came along."

Will ignored her, angling himself nearer to the door to keep Elizabeth in his line of sight. No matter how strong he knew she was, she was alone with men sent by her father.

He would take no chances.

"You're going to have to step your game up with her. She'll need your for support if her father's pushing his way back in. I'm leaving soon."

He would have celebrated his good fortune in any other moment. "Really?"

"London is summoning me back. Divorcees are right twitchy when their favorite cunt isn't around to be mean for them. And don't worry. I'll have enough work piled up that I probably won't make it back this way for quite some time."

"Praise be for small miracles." He saw Elizabeth laugh quickly before frowning in confusion as the shorter man kept talking. He itched to go to her, but he didn't want to exacerbate the already tense exchange with his presence.

"When she comes back in, don't ask her how she is or anything like that," Bria advised him. "She feels smothered enough when she has to deal with them, so you can't add to it. Just give her a bit of space to cool off and let her…" Bria's words faded away and all of Will's focus zeroed in as Elizabeth suddenly slapped Beckett with all her might.

Will flew outside, pushing through other people in his haste to get Elizabeth away from the situation before it spun further out of control, but that idea was lost to the wayside the second the slimy git grabbed Elizabeth, her terror silently screaming out to him. Suddenly it was Will's control that disappeared. In what felt like an instant, he had reached them, ripping Beckett away from Elizabeth and thrown him against the wall, his forearm pressing tightly against Beckett's throat until the other man's face began to redden.

A handful of voices rang out around him as Will relentlessly kept the pressure on Beckett's larynx, barely feeling a pair of masculine hands trying to pry him off the smaller man. All that he could hear, though, was the sound of the baby's heartbeat from the ultrasound yesterday; it echoed in his ears, hammering savagely over the beat of his own while instincts as old as humanity leapt forward. However inadvertently, his son's very existence had been threatened and now Cutler Beckett had an enemy for the rest of his miserable life, which – if left to Will – wouldn't last too much longer.

Finally, through the cacophony of his rage, he heard Elizabeth.

"Will, let him go!" Her plea was ignored because it couldn't mask her unshed tears. It wasn't until her hand was on his shoulder, breaking his concentration, that he saw how close Beckett was to losing consciousness, but even as his hold loosened, his hands couldn't let the man go entirely, not with Elizabeth still so close by, until she begged, "Please, Will, don't do this! N-Not with Lucy inside."

Blinking, Will slowly released the man, who crumpled to his knees in a gasping heap. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bria leading Elizabeth firmly away from the scene, with Will only receiving a fleeting look from her full of too much complexity for him to interpret. Whatever small crowd had gathered quickly dispersed and Will took a deep breath, struggling to quell his desire to maim before he dared face either Elizabeth or Lucy.

"Mr. Turner, I presume?" The taller man – Norrington – said slowly, studying Will closely and making no move to help his colleague up from the ground. "I'm James Norrington. I greatly apologize for the circumstances of this meeting and I can promise you that-"

"Tell Weatherby Swann," Will began, walking up to the other man until they were nose-to-nose, "that if he sends any more people down here that Elizabeth doesn't want to see, they will be met by me and **I** can promise **you** that they will not get off as easily as this one." He barely held himself back from spitting down on Beckett. "Do we understand each other, Mr. Norrington?"

"Yes, we do."

With that, Will left the pair of them without a second look, stopping outside the café to let his pulse go back to normal. It had been years since he had felt his anger transcend to the physical and even back then, nothing could compare to what he had just experienced. He would've killed that man without hesitation for setting his hands on Elizabeth. He would've done it without a second thought yet now, as sanity came back to him, he felt nauseous, the consequences of his actions racing through his mind.

He would've been arrested. He would've gone to jail for years. The birth of his son; his and Lucy's childhoods; Elizabeth herself. He would've blindly sacrificed all of them in a blink of an eye.

 _Bang up job showing Elizabeth how much she means to you. Nearly left her all alone with a baby and child that isn't even…bloody hell, she wouldn't have even had any claim to see Lucy. No one else would. Why did I never-?_

"Will!" Anamaria said forcefully, suddenly in front of him and cupping his face in between her hands. "Look at me, Will, just focus on me. Breathe slowly before you pass out."

It was only as she spoke that he realized how close he had been to having a full-blown panic attack. Taking her advice, he kept his eyes on hers, grateful she had stood them away from the windows. Seeing him in this state was the last thing Elizabeth needed to witness after today. "You see those guys or anyone like them hanging around, make sure Elizabeth's not alone with them," he said when he found the strength to.

"Sure."

"Call me. Call Jack. Call someone and make sure she's safe. Understand?"

"I promise."

"I need a will."

"Okay, no problem," Anamaria replied, completely unfazed by his abrupt turn. "We'll get right on that."

"I mean, I need papers for everything: the house, my car, the tools, all of it so it doesn't just get…you know what I mean?"

"I do."

"But Lucy first, before anything else. She just…I mean, the baby will have Elizabeth, but Lucy she doesn't have-" Anamaria put a finger over his lips to stop his spiral.

"Lucy has a whole world of people that are always going to take care of her and if – God forbid – anything ever happened to you and someone tried to take her away, you know who'd they'd have to get through first."

Gently, she turned his face until he could see Lucy sitting on the countertop of the café, her little legs kicking back and forth, coming close to whacking Bria, who was ignoring her in favor of keeping an eye on Elizabeth as she topped an absurdly large sundae with whipped cream. And even though he could plainly see the tension that still sat in her shoulders and features, Elizabeth was all smiles for his daughter, managing a small chuckle when Lucy shrieked as Elizabeth squirted a dollop of cream on her nose.

How had it happened? How had he not noticed before it was too late? How had Elizabeth become the sun, the center of both his and Lucy's universe, this quickly and this thoroughly?

"I can't lose her," Will whispered out loud.

Anamaria slowly let him go, her hands smoothing out the wrinkles on his shirt as she did. "It's kind of hard to lose someone that isn't yours to begin with, _mi hijo_ ," she admonished, pecking his cheek before going back inside.

It was sound counsel to be sure, but one that Will couldn't heed as the next few days found Elizabeth mired deep in thoughts she refused to share with him. Whenever she wasn't at work, Bria and Lucy – either together or just one of them – were her constant companions, effectively blocking him from trying to get through to her. She never allowed them to have a moment alone together. His only logical conclusion was that his reaction with Beckett had thoroughly frightened her off whatever attraction she may have felt for him, something that he couldn't blame her for. Yet she stayed; whatever fears she held weren't strong enough to chase her from his house. More than likely, it was the idea of losing time with Lucy (a notion he'd never do anything to encourage) that kept Elizabeth here, but whatever it was, he'd take it. He'd take her hesitation if it meant she would give him a chance, only she seemed determined to not do so. The times in the late evening when he did make an effort to speak to her, she feigned exhaustion with a tired smile and retreated to her room. One night, in a fit of restlessness, he walked by her door, nearly coming undone when he heard the quiet, muffled sobs on the other side.

 _Let me in!_ Will's mind screamed as he longed to scream out loud right now. Instead, he slumped against the wall, his heart heavy with his impotence. _Just let me help you. I know how strong you are, but you don't have to live with this by yourself. I can handle taking care of you. I_ _ **want**_ _to take care of you, Elizabeth._

She couldn't hear what he couldn't say so when he heard her crying eventually give way to slumber, he retreated to his own bed, staring at the ceiling until the rising sun gave him an excuse to leave the house for work before anyone else woke up. Losing himself in blueprints, phone calls, and about seven cups of coffee kept him grounded enough that the day flew by. The only thing that kept him aware of time at all was the fact that tonight was Bria's going away party. Not only was he (incredibly and impatiently) eager to bid her adieu from their daily lives, he also saw the opportunity this presented: Bria gone would be one less hurdle for him to climb, one less way for Elizabeth to keep her distance from him. And loathe as he was to admit that Bria was right about anything, he knew that making Elizabeth see what he wanted – no, what he **needed** – their future to be together had to become his priority.

No ideas had come to him at work and during the drive home, inspiration had also failed to strike. He was beginning to feel the desperate urge to pull Jack aside tonight for advice when a voice startled him as he climbed out of his car.

"Sparrow was not exaggerating: this house is a shithole. A lovely little shithole, but a shithole nonetheless." Hank smiled brightly as he stepped out of the luxury Mercedes that Will had failed to notice parked between his and Jack's homes. "Someone that I employ needs to reach for better."

"You're back," Will said without preamble, walking over to meet him halfway. "Thank God."

"Ah, we don't like our desk work, do we?"

"No, we just don't enjoy feeling like an idiot when we try and go over finances with people who have been doing this more than six weeks or so." He reached out to shake Hank's hand. "You were missed."

"Couldn't be helped. Had to go find something out of the blue." He waved a fat manila envelope up. "When I did, I came straight here."

"Everything alright?"

Hank hesitated before nodding and letting go of Will to stare long and hard at the aforementioned shithole. "Yeah, I hope so."

At his boss's uncharacteristic silence, still unnerved to see the man at his home after business hours, Will asked, "Can I…help with anything?"

"Maybe." He smirked slightly. "Heard you're having a boy. Congrats. Must be nice for you to get a son."

"He's healthy. That's all we were aiming for really."

"You and Elizabeth." At her name, an unmistakable softness entered Hank's eyes, one that had Will tilting his head in confusion. "She's…happy, then? With everything?"

Now confusion was giving way to suspicion. "What's it to you?"

"Is she here?" Hank answered with a question. "I need to talk to her. It's important, I think."

Will hesitated, debating his options. Hank was his boss, his benefactor, the reason he had a chance of making more out of his life, but with Elizabeth, there'd be no compromises. "You've met her once, disappeared for a week afterwards, and now you show up on my doorstep without any warning wanting a chat. What's going on?"

"She's a bit young for me nowadays, if that's what's got you all twisted and worried about competition. If I did have a fancy for her, though, you wouldn't-"

"Hank, she's had a hard time lately. She's had…" Will blew out a hard breath, "issues, shall we say, with her father and I'm not going to let you go in there to play some sort of game with her."

"Issues with her father?"

"Yeah."

"Then I promise that she's going to want to see these." Hank held up the envelope again. For the first time since they'd met, Hank looked close to earnest. "Five minutes and if she says the word, she never has to see me again."

Knowing he wouldn't be able to dissuade the man, Will reluctantly nodded and led Hank up the steps and into the house. To his surprise, Elizabeth was already in the kitchen with her back to them, wiping down the counter.

"Hey, Lucy already went next door with Bria," she said. "I know what you're going to say, but I needed to surprise Bria with some sticky toffee brownies to send back home with her and Lucy is many things, except none of them are capable of keeping secrets so-" At his silence, she turned, blinking when she spotted Hank over Will's shoulder. "Oh, Mr. DeMarcus. This is a surprise."

"I thought we settled on 'Hank'." He shook her outstretched hand, his eyes lingering over her face, a gentle smile creeping up along on his. "It's very nice to see you again, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth glanced at Will in bemusement before turning to clear away the messy table. "Forgive me, I didn't know that Will was bringing you over to discuss work."

"Neither did he and we're not discussing work. I came here to speak to you." He gestured to the small table. "Perhaps we might sit. This could take a little while."

The three sat down, Elizabeth silently asking Will what was going on, but all he could do was shrug his shoulders. Hank laid the mystery envelope on the table, tapping it nervously with his fingers as he searched for words that wouldn't come. Elizabeth finally spoke to break the tension.

"I hope you're not looking to hire me for your staff as a baker. Anamaria would have more than words for you." Hank continued to stare at the table, so Elizabeth tried again, "Hank, if there's something that I said or did the other day, you can just tell me. I know pregnant women get a bad rap but there's really no need to work yourself into-"

"Afraid I'm all out of ketchup right now. I can pop to the store if you're in a bind," Hank said quietly, finally daring to meet Elizabeth's gaze.

Will had no idea where that comment had come from, but Elizabeth seemed to, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "You have an excellent memory."

"I should, considering how many times I heard that." Elizabeth frowned; before she could speak, Hank finally slid the envelope to her. "I started practicing this speech the day I left the shipyard: all through the plane, going through my safe deposit boxes, digging through endless amounts of memorabilia. Never quite figured out how to say it, so maybe it's best if I just start out with some visuals."

Carefully, looking back and forth between the two men, Elizabeth opened the envelope and reached inside, pulling out a handful of photos. When she focused on the first one, her entire being paled to the point where Will was afraid she'd stopped breathing until she managed a small, choking gasp. He reached for her free hand, squeezing it tightly as it shook while trying to get a look for himself at whatever she was seeing.

"Elizabeth, what's…?" She stopped him short, first by letting a few tears track unheeded down her cheeks and then by stretching those same cheeks into a smile. "What's going on?"

She ignored him in favor of continuing to stare at the pictures, turning slightly in Hank's direction as she asked haltingly, "How? H-How did you…?"

"I grew up poor in Australia," he began, leaning back in his chair to fully take her in. "The only thing I wanted to do besides sail the world was make money so when I turned sixteen, I knew I needed to get myself to the financial capital of the world, New York. I did my research and started writing endless letters to financiers and stock brokers in the city to sponsor me for a student visa. Most of them ignored the crazy Aussie, rightly so, except for one: a man by the name of George Mulroney. After more letters and phone calls, he made my dreams reality by bringing me to the city and putting me through Columbia University while giving me an internship in his brokerage house. He even exceeded them by giving me a place to live in his townhouse, the room right across from his daughter." He took one of the loose photos out of the envelope, smiling softly at it. "Etta."

"My mother," Elizabeth breathed, still enraptured by the pictures.

The only thing that shocked Will anymore after these last crazy months was his ability to still be shocked. "You're shitting me," he said to Hank."

"I am not," Hank replied, finally handing Will the photo; instantly, Will saw the likeness between mother and daughter in their eyes: every bit of the fire and spirit from Elizabeth was looking back at him from the still of the woman with dark, curly hair sticking her tongue out for the camera. Again, Will squeezed her hand, surprised when she returned it this time. "I lost touch with her after her parents died and she moved to London. Didn't even know about her death until two years after it happened because I was too busy wasting my life away on needless things. Then, who should come across my path after I redirected myself but Etta Mulroney's girl, with that same little giggle and terrible jokes, to shock me like few things do nowadays."

"You really knew her?" Elizabeth managed to pull herself away from the pictures to ask.

"Oh yes. Those adventures we had in New York – sneaking into seedy clubs, carousing from rooftop to rooftop, going on ridiculous scavenger hunts in mansions during stuffy dinner parties – they were some of the best times of my life. She was one of a kind."

"I never…I mean, she never talked about…I had no idea that…" Fingering the pictures as she laid them on the table, Elizabeth could only shake her head. "She looked happy."

"Most of the time she was, but she had her dark days. When she was about seven or eight, she'd been in a car accident with her family. Her little sister was killed right beside her. I don't think she ever really recovered from it."

"My God." Elizabeth wiped her eyes. "She had…I didn't even know she had a sister. I had an aunt. What was her name?"

Hank looked away from her before he finally said, "Eliza."

At her small whimper, Will ached to pull Elizabeth to him, but he refrained, deciding it was safer in company to rub his thumb over her knuckles, much she had done for him the other day in this very kitchen. It must have given her at least a tiny bit of the strength the gesture had given him because she opened her eyes with a sigh to smile sadly at him. "Tell me a good story, Hank," she said. "Please tell me a wonderful, crazy story about her."

"Well, let's see." Hank shifted through the photos until he settled on one, banging his fist twice on the table as he laughed. Passing it to Elizabeth, he said, "This one is classic Etta."

Elizabeth and Will both squinted down at the black and white photo trying to make sense of it. "Is she wearing a potato sack and nothing else in the middle of a department store?" Will asked.

"That would be Saks Fifth Avenue, my friend, and she most certainly was."

"Why?"

"Because Etta Mulroney never welched when she lost a bet. You see, what happened was…" Hank's first story bled into his second and his third, until Will lost count amidst Elizabeth's laughing questions and own recollections of her mother. He hadn't even realized how much time had gone by until he caught Jack on the back deck, waving for him to come outside. Quickly, Will excused himself and joined him under the moonlight.

"She doin' okay?"

"You knew?"

"Hank called 'bout an hour before he came over. Asked if we could keep the wee one distracted for a bit while he brought the pictures by."

"Thanks then." Will stared at her through the glass, smiling as she stood to put on a kettle of tea. "She needed this, especially after what happened at the café. Bria's not too put out, is she? I mean, her best friend is missing her party."

"Well, the lovely Lady McKendrick has other concerns at the moment."

"Like what?"

"Now, understand this, whelp," Jack began, taking large steps back. "Anamaria and her planned this out themselves. My hands are clean in this. Figuratively, at least. And before your fatherly reflexes try to rip me throat out, understand that this is for your own good."

Will followed him down onto the sand, step for step. "What did you do?"

"Again, I repeat, the womenfolk went and decided that-"

"Jack, what did you do?"

Stopping about halfway between the two houses, Jack's alight with outdoor torch lamps and filled with loud music from the party, the older man held up his arms in surrender. "Bria ain't goin' back to London tomorrow."

"She's staying longer then? What the hell, are you and Anamaria considering -?"

"Oh, piss off. I can barely manage the one female, let alone two in the same house. That's your kind of crazy, not mine."

"Then where's Bria going?"

"To Florida." Jack paused for effect. "To Disney World, actually." Taking one more step back, he finally blurted out, "With your daughter."

Will blinked once, then twice, then a third time before doubling over with laughter, his stomach cramping as he struggled to breathe. It was only about thirty seconds after his hysterics began that he saw Jack wincing a little. Slowly, his laughter petered out. "W-What?"

"The plane tickets have been booked. Lucy's passport is all in order. Bria reserved a suite at a fine hotel and I've been told there will be meals with people in ridiculous character costumes."

"This is a joke."

"Not a very funny one, considerin' how much it costs. Bria was specific when pointin' to things on the bill that-"

"There is no way in hell that I am letting that woman even take Lucy to the loo, let alone on an airplane to another country."

"Which is why we didn't tell you before we arranged it." Pulling himself up to full height, Jack braced himself in the sand. "Also why we told already told Lucy."

Will stared daggers across at his oldest friend. "You what?"

"We told her first, a little while ago. Amazed you didn't hear the screams. So now if you want to put this plan to rubble, you would be crushin' your poor little girl's spirit into a million tiny pieces, possibly rendering her unable to trust and form meaningful relationships, which could lead to-"

"ARGH!" Will grunted as he charged full-on towards Jack, tackling him into the sand and tussling with him wildly, trying his best to get a few good licks in before Jack invariably pinned him down. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"You and Lizzie," Jack spat out in between attempted swipes, "need to get your heads on straight 'bout the two of you and you can't do that with Lucy poppin' in whenever you start to get your hand up Lizzie's skirt."

Will rolled them back around, going for Jack's braids. "I haven't even bloody kissed her since she's been here!"

"Exactly! You can't declare your undyin' love for her if you haven't even snogged her, and you can't snog her while your five-year-old is always buttin' her nose into your time with Lizzie!" Jack gained the upper hand again, trapping Will in a headlock. "Let Lucy have a week of fun in the most overpriced place on Earth while you go 'bout provin' that you're not the eunuch we all think you're startin' to become."

"Bria…can't…stand her!" Will fought to break free. "How can I trust her to…?!"

"Because Lizzie's heart would break if anythin' happed to the wee one and Bria's life is dedicated to keepin' Lizzie's heart intact, somethin' you both actually have in common."

"This is…my… **LIFE**! You all can't just go-!"

"We ain't 'just' done anythin'! You've had two bloody months to find your opportune moment with the woman carryin' your baby! Since you couldn't be bothered, we found it for you. Your welcome!"

"Prick!"

"Wanker!" Running out of energy, Jack finally released him, falling onto his back next to Will, the two huffing madly. "You can't escape this anymore, William. I know after Bootstrap that lovin' someone – hell, **needin'** someone – is terrifying for you. That's why you held back with Rebecca. That's why bar fucks were all you allowed yourself. You were convinced you'd never find love, 'cept you did, without even looking." Groaning, he stood up, leaving Will lying prone on the sand. "Flight leaves tomorrow at nine. Bria will meet you at the airport. Come get your daughter soon. Doubt Lucy will sleep tonight so good luck with that."

"I can't just-"

"You love her. She adores you and worships your girl. Stop makin' it so bloody hard on yourself." With that, Jack staggered back to the house, leaving Will contemplating the stars, desperately searching for a way out of this mess.

Nothing came to him in the half hour or so he spent by himself on the beach. He was still at a loss when he brought Lucy home, trying to get a word in edge wise as she pulled an equally-stunned Elizabeth into her room to pack. Even as the taxi pulled he and Lucy into temporary parking outside the airport in Kingston, he was still madly racking his brain for a solution. Holding Lucy with one hand and her small suitcase with the other, he led her inside the bustling space, watching her eyes go wide as saucers, Felix held tight to her chest.

"Sweetheart, you're absolutely sure you want to go? Because no one is going to be mad if you-"

"Daddy, they have a pirate ride there!" Lucy exclaimed, smiling brightly at him. "And a castle! And animals! And people dressed as animals! It's going to be the best trip ever!"

And there it was; that smile was his ultimate weakness. Well, one of them anyways. It was sharing the crown lately with Elizabeth's.

Kneeling besides her, he adjusted the straps of her backpack. "Remember the rules?"

"Don't go anywhere without Bria. Remember my manners. Call home at dinner. Brush my teeth. Bedtime is still bedtime. Eat fruits and veggies every day," she repeated from the list Will had come up with last night.

"And French fries don't count as veggies."

"But they're a potato!" At his look, she sighed dejectedly. "Fine, but just carrots so my eyes can see everything better."

"Deal." Pulling her in for a close hug, he tried to ignore how badly his heart was lurching at the idea of not seeing her for five days. "Call in the morning, too. Before you go to the parks," he whispered in her ear. "Even if I'm at work, I'll have my phone on for you."

"How come?"

"Because Daddy's going to go a little barmy without you here." He stroked her hair, still amazed at how soft it was after all these years. "It'll be the first time since you were born that I'll be alone."

"What do you mean?" Lucy pulled back from him, her head tilted quizzically. "How can you be alone if you have Elizabeth?"

Will opened his mouth to answer but found under his daughter's innocently penetrating gaze that he had none. In her mind, she'd seen he and Elizabeth share almost every facet of their daily lives with one another. To Lucy, they were already a unit, a team, two pieces that weren't complete without the other. If even a child could see a connection between the two of them…

"BRIA!"

Will's reverie was broken by Lucy's shout and release of him as she ran to Bria, trying to wrap her arms around the woman's waist. "Nope, this is Tom Ford," Bria said, holding Lucy at bay by using a luggage cart as a shield. "Grubby little monster hands don't touch Tom Ford."

"We're going to have so much fun! The first thing we have to do is get Mouse ears to wear every day!"

"Yeah, that's not happening. Knock yourself out but I'm not putting anything on my head."

"Elizabeth said you'd say that. She also said to remind you that she still has pictures from the 2012 Olympic closing ceremonies. What does that mean?"

"That Bria will be putting a lot of ridiculous things on her head this week," Will said with a mocking grin.

Bria rubbed her temple, chanting, "I love my best friend, I love my best friend, I love my best friend."

 _Me too. That's only reason I'm handing my child to you right now_.

Pulling them from the side of the suitcase, Will handed Bria the legal documents she'd need to fly with Lucy. "Everything's in there. Call me or Elizabeth the second you have any questions or issues."

"I'm a highly functioning adult with an IQ that's double yours. I can keep something alive for a few days."

"You'd better." Covering Lucy's ears, he asked Bria, "What are your rules?"

"Don't let it wander off alone. No booze. No sex. Make sure it sleeps, keeps its teeth clean, and eats something healthy once a day," Bria said scathingly, checking the paperwork one final time.

"And French fries aren't vegetables."

"For the record, I could convince any judge and jury that they are."

"Humor me, woman. You're going to have my entire world with you, hundreds of miles out of my sight."

"Well, make it thousands of miles and you'll know how I've felt." The shared a look of uncomfortable understanding, a strange kinship forming against their wanting. Putting the papers in her purse, Bria pulled her sunglasses on. "Get her lilies."

"What?"

"Lizzie thinks roses are commercial and unimaginative. If you were looking for ideas for wooing, her favorite flowers are lilies."

Will nodded. "There's a nightlight packed. She doesn't do well sleeping in new places at first."

"Don't take her anywhere really fancy. I mean, don't take her to a dive but she hates the pressure of formal places when she's on a date."

"Don't buy her balloons, no matter how much she begs. She holds them for five minutes, then she says the clouds want company and she lets them go."

"Be yourself. For some reason, it's all she wants from you."

"Be nice sometimes. I'm not sure why but she actually likes you."

"Take care of her," Bria whispered, the barest hint of sincerity in her voice.

"If you do the same for me."

Their truce agreed upon, one of the many overhead clocks proclaimed it time for goodbyes. Reluctantly, Will let go of Lucy's ears and kneeled with her again, stealing one last hug to tide him over for the week. "I love you."

"Love you more." Rubbing her nose with his, she let go and went for Bria's hand.

"What are you doing?"

"You're the grown-up. You have to hold my hand."

"Seriously?" Bria groaned at Will's nod and dug through her purse until she emerged with hand sanitizer, dousing Lucy's hands with it. "Get used to that."

"It smells nice. Why do you have it in your purse?"

"Is it just going to keep asking questions all week?" she asked Will.

"Pretty much."

"Oh joy." Taking Lucy's hand with the tips of her fingers, she pulled them and the luggage cart forward to the check-in desk, calling behind them, "Remember that 'Brian' better be in the final running for names!"

"Bye Daddy!"

Waiting until they were out of sight in the security line, Will finally left the airport, accepting the small knot in his stomach wouldn't loosen completely until Lucy was back home with him. As unsettling as it felt to be away from his daughter, Will knew why his friends had gone to such length to give him this opportunity. If he let it go to waste, he'd never be able to live with himself. On the ferry back to Arbor Bay, he tried to let the salt air fill him with courage; however, he was still a mass of nerves as he wandered into the back entrance of Dulzura to find Elizabeth kneading dough in the busy kitchen.

She smiled tightly when she saw him. "Did they get off okay?"

"Yeah, they were fine."

"Good. Don't worry, I had a very detailed conversation with Bria over the phone this morning about her responsibilities with Lucy. I used every bit of blackmail I have over her. Lucy is going to come back safe and sound with more souvenirs then will fit in her room."

"Um, that's great. I was-"

"She's really one of the people I trust most in the world and I think this is going to be a good experience for her, too. Being around Lucy, just the two of them, will really help Bria see how wonderful she is."

"I guess, but I actually wanted to-"

"I mean, I know they're been together since Bria's got here but I'm always in the middle, so they never really got a chance to connect one-on-one, and I really think-"

"Let's get dinner tonight."

Her hand that was wiping at her cheek stilled in midair, leaving a long stripe of flour across her face. "W-What?"

Will scarcely believed the words had come out of his mouth. Mindful of the curious eyes of the staff, he stepped closer, batting down the urge to kiss the flour off her skin. "It's the… **our** first Lucy-free night and if we spend most of it at the house, we're just going to keep popping into her room to smell her pillow or something," he said in a rush, hoping to quell any hesitancy on her part. "We can go and…and…you can indulge in a pregnancy craving that you thought was too strange to try in front of child, like, I don't know, spaghetti covered in corn chowder."

"That's revolting," Elizabeth replied, turning back to her dough, but she smiled so he pressed on.

"You've got the perfect excuse to gorge on exotic island cuisine though; no one will look at you sideways if you scarf down two bowls of curry goat and finished it off with some grater cakes."

"If only the baby were craving that."

"No? What is he in the mood for then?"

"Nothing he can get around here so there's no point in thinking about it."

"Well, if he didn't know Jack Sparrow, I'd agree with you, but he does and if you know Jack Sparrow, nothing is off limits in these parts."

"Really?" She playfully nibbled her bottom lip and as much as he'd miss Lucy in the coming days, Will knew that he'd found his opportune moment.

Now it was on him to seize it.

"Tell me what you want and it's yours," he promised her.

Regarding him thoughtfully for a moment, Elizabeth finally said, "Shepard's pie with extra peas and a side of Yorkshire pudding."

"Pub food?" At her shy nod, he grinned, using a spare dishtowel to wipe her cheek. "I'll pick you up at the house after I get out of work."

"Wait, you can actually find a pub in this town that's not garish and crowded with tourists?"

"Do you trust me?" Will challenged, eyebrow raised.

"Yes."

Her genuine belief in him made the next words slip out with an ease he'd never imagined even in his wildest dreams:

"Then it's a date."


	17. Chapter 17

**Well, here we are, only 17 chapters later and finally on a first date! In all seriousness, this was one of my favorite parts to write, even if it took forever to get the tone of it correct. For the record, I do not own the song "Feels Like Home" that was used in this chapter. It belongs to Randy Newman, but the version I was inspired by was sung by Edwina Hayes, if anyone's interested in having a soundtrack at a certain part in this chapter. Please forgive any typos and errors and I would love to hear what you guys think. Enjoy!**

* * *

Elizabeth stared into the bathroom mirror, nearly growling in frustration as the strands of hair refused to curl properly, no matter how long she kept them in the curling iron. Under normal circumstances, she'd shrug her shoulders and quit on the updo she was attempting, but this was something much bigger: it was her first date with Will and it had to be perfect.

 _After all, it could well be the last first date you ever have._

"Yeah, that's what your nerves need," she grumbled to herself, wrapping her hair with the curling iron again. When her shaking hand made the hot metal nearly singe her forehead, she swore and yanked the thing from the outlet, almost throwing it through the wall. "Get it together," Elizabeth ordered herself, trying to relax. "It's a bloody meal with him. The fate of the world isn't depending on this."

Except that was a lie. The fate of **her** world was riding on the outcome of tonight. If they couldn't find a way to manage a few hours alone – a feat they hadn't accomplished in weeks of living together – what hope did they have? How could they build a relationship, a future, a family on a foundation that was more fragile than eggshells? She'd been asking herself this ever since Will's impromptu invitation and her mind was so muddled with horrible scenarios that she almost texted him a dozen times feigning illness to cancel.

Almost.

She'd almost done it, but every time she reached for the phone memories of their brief afternoon on Brackmoore Pier surfaced to stop her. Even as her stomach had been a mass of nerves (and growing baby) with the weight of telling him about her pregnancy, Will's smile and gentle flirting while they swapped stories had made it easy to laugh together, made it effortless to open herself up to a man who had been almost a stranger back then. Now there was almost nothing that smile couldn't make her do, including making a gamble she couldn't afford to lose.

Was it the same for Will? Did she have some of that power over him?

Walking back into her room, she went to her bureau and picked up the assortment of photos Hank had left with her last night, along with a promise of more to come when he was able to track down which of his properties held the rest of the effects from his early years. Gazing down at the lovely woman her mother had been before years of depression had taken their toll, Elizabeth traced her carefree smile with longing.

"Tell me this is the right thing," she whispered to the image. "I know you don't know him. All I can do is hope somewhere, somehow, that you even know me. I just…Please tell me I'm not throwing away the happiness of two innocent children over something that Will only wants to test the waters with. Because if…if this doesn't work out…" Elizabeth let out a shaking breath. "Please find a way to tell me I'm not half mad for doing this."

Her plea was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps on the back deck. A glance out the window showed her Bootstrap carefully placing something at the sliding door before moving to leave. Hurrying, she raced into the living room, only just pulling the door open as he reached the sand.

"Bootstrap!" He paused slightly before turning to her. "I'm sorry, I thought you were still away. What are you doing here?"

"Uh, Lucy left her sandals at Jack's." Elizabeth looked down to the small shoes, not surprised none of them had noticed Lucy was barefoot in the chaos of last night. "I was dropping them off so no one else would be bothered."

"Thank you. That was very nice. Would you like to come inside for-?"

"No." His quick refusal made her blink and he offered a hasty smile, jutting his thumb back towards the dock. "I'm sorry, I just have _The Tempest_ waiting for me on my nightstand and it won't read itself tonight."

"Shakespeare?" He nodded a bit sheepishly and she smiled brighter to put him at ease. "Forgive me, I didn't take you for a classical man. We'll have to have a rousing discussion on _The Merchant of Venice_ sometime soon, although I'm in a bit of a Jane Austen phase when I have the time for reading."

"You're English; I'd be worried if you weren't a little obsessed with her."

Her smile dimming, she stepped closer to the older man. "Well, she seems slightly more adept at matters of the heart than I am."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because," Elizabeth shrugged, leaning against the wood railing for support, watching the sun preparing to lower over the magnificent ocean horizon, still amazed by the beauty of this place after so long, "I'm nearly five months pregnant and in a little while, I'll be going on my first date with the father of my child, who…who might be equating the love he very clearly has for this baby with feelings for me that don't quite live up to…"

"Yours?" At her small nod, Bootstrap joined her on the top step, gently tipping her chin up with his hand until she was looking deep into his soulful eyes, "Elizabeth, that's madness."

"Due respect, but by your own admission you don't know Will. You've never seen him with me."

The brief flash of pain washing over his battered features gave Elizabeth pause before the older man replied, "Aye, that's the truth. I know Jack, though, and Jack knows Will. All I've heard from my old friend is how happy that young man has been since you came into his life." Elizabeth blushed slightly and Bootstrap smiled reassuringly. "He's…I know from Jack that he's been hurt by people who should have cared for him. Trust isn't easy for those who have suffered like that and yet, here you are, a part of a world that he lets very few into. That should tell you all you need to know about what he feels for you."

Feeling more than a little embarrassed for her impromptu confessional, Elizabeth squeezed one of his hands in both of hers. "You should be a therapist. You're very easy to talk to, for me at least."

"Well, then allow me to leave you with this: I threw away love when I was a younger man; threw it away blindly and when I finally realized what I had truly lost, it was too late. One day, you'll wake up and be my age. Don't waste what you can never get back."

"Alright then." She giggled, feeling lighter. "Who am I to argue with the wise old man from the sea?"

"Old, yes. Wise? Very debatable." He bowed his head in farewell. "I'll leave you to your primping."

"Am I that obvious?"

Bootstrap held his thumb and forefinger a hair's width apart. "Only a bit." He reached up to tug lightly on one of her curl attempts. "You should wear it long. Men like something soft to run our fingers through when we're lucky enough to hold beautiful women such as yourself close."

"All men, eh? Did you hear that then?" Elizabeth directed playfully at her stomach. "You're going to like running your fingers through hair someday."

"It's a boy?"

"Oh yes. A fine young man, hopefully just like his father," she said with pride, running a hand over her bump.

Bootstrap looked away, swallowing deeply. Again, his reaction confused her, but he was already walking away from her when she tried to ask, calling out to her, "That's a fine thing to hope for, Elizabeth, a very fine thing indeed." With that, he was gone, the ever-present air of mystery surrounding him only growing foggier.

 _Strange man_ , Elizabeth thought again, going back into the house and into her room. Picking up the picture of her mother again, she smiled before loosening her tresses from the tight bun. _Strange, but helpful. Thanks, Mum._

After her conversation with Bootstrap, she finished her beauty prep, letting the excitement of being taken out by Will begin to override whatever trepidation still lingered. It was when she finished applying her lipstick that she decided to truly live on the edge by putting on the lacy maternity lingerie that Bria had sneakily bought for her on their Girls' Day, checking herself from all angles in the full-length mirror. Her ever-growing belly was as far away from sexy as she could imagine, but her breasts more than made up for it, voluminous and almost straining out of their cups. Will seemed to like them, if the occasional looks she caught him sneaking sometimes were any indication. As she finally slid the lavender dress over her figure, she could almost feel Will's hand in hers as they walked somewhere, his fingers stroking her hips as they danced slowly, his lips suckling against her neck as they –

KNOCK – KNOCK

Elizabeth startled out her increasingly X-rated fantasy from the sound on the front door of the house. Hoping it was who she thought it was, she quickly grabbed her small purse and gave herself one last check in the mirror, doing her best to quell the blush spreading across her face. With nimble steps, she crossed through the living room to the door, slowly pulling it open to reveal her wishes (and more) were granted with Will standing on his porch, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Hello," she said, stepping over the threshold to stand in front of him.

He blinked, a few beats passing as he took her in. "You look amazing," he finally said, sounding in awe.

"Thank you. Likewise." Anamaria had let it slip earlier at the café that Jack was bringing Will something to change into at the shipyard. Jack's taste was apparently impeccable: the dark green shirt was iron-pressed, with the first two buttons open to leave it casual while the tan slacks fit him perfectly. With his curls pulled back snugly and his goatee neatly trimmed, Will was a dream come to life.

Her dream, at least.

When neither could manage another word after a moment, Will awkwardly thrust out the flowers to her. "These are for you. Um, I thought you'd like them so…"

"I do," she assured him, taking them and inhaling the floral scent to help relax her nerves. "Lilies are actually my favorites."

"Good. I'm glad." Jerking his hand back nervously towards the car, he asked, "Shall we?"

Eager to leave the confines of the house, they started for the car, Will holding open her door for her like the gentleman he truly was underneath his roguish exterior. They drove out to the main road in silence; Elizabeth fiddled more with her bouquet while Will searched for decent radio reception. When he finally settled on an oldies station, the tension hummed in her ears louder than the music, throbbing along with her pulse as it refused to settle.

Unable to stand it any longer, Elizabeth finally blurted out, "What was your favorite subject in school?"

Will frowned, confused. "Sorry?"

"I said, what was your-?"

"No, I heard you I just wasn't sure why you were asking."

"Because I know how you like your coffee," Elizabeth replied as if it made sense. When Will's look told her it didn't, she tried to explain, "I know what you buy for groceries. I know that you like to fold all your shirts first before your pants. I know that when you play Go Fish with Lucy, you'll switch your cards with the ones in the deck when she's not looking so you can let her win. I know it takes you longer to trim that goatee of yours than it does for me to take a whole shower."

"This takes work," he protested, pointing with pride to his chin.

"Okay."

"It does."

"I believe you."

"I'm serious. Have Jack show you the pictures from when I was sixteen and tried one of these for the first time." He smiled to show he was teasing and Elizabeth continued.

"What I'm saying is I know all these intimate things about you that a person learns over time when they've been…after they've…" The words lodged in her throat and she stroked the velvety white petals to bring herself back to center. "I want to get to know **you** , Will, not just all your quirks and I want you to know me more than as the flat mate you're having a baby with. So, again, what was your favorite subject in school?"

"You've always been much more than that, Elizabeth." Her heart soared as her eyes dared to meet his before he went back to focusing on the road. "To your question, though, it was math."

"Math? No, no one's favorite subject is math."

"Mine was. I was excellent at it. Tested out before I finished my final exams."

"It's so boring though! Add these numbers, then subtract these numbers before doing something else with the numbers in the parentheses and then viola! More numbers!"

"Let me guess: your surname and its influence were the only reason you aren't still in school right now, correct?"

"No," she huffed indignantly while smirking. "Bria's propensity for promiscuity, on the other hand…"

Will laughed, rolling down his window to let the cool evening breeze flow in. "What did you excel in then?"

"Music. I loved all my music classes, especially choir. Concerts were one of the best things about school. I even got a few solos."

"So, you can carry a tune then?"

"Without even holding a bucket."

"You know the place we're going to has a piano. I could probably convince the owner, Colum, to let you give a little show," Will offered teasingly.

"Well, seeing as how the only time I sing in public now is when I'm smashed three sheets to the wind, I will have to pass. Can't have Corrine getting cross with us."

"Us? I can do no wrong in her eyes. She'd forgive me."

"And you'd shield me from her wrath?"

"Always," he promised. "Okay then, we've covered school so let's move on to other first date topics: First kiss?"

"Um, Michael Brantly when I was…fourteen, I think. You?"

"Ashleigh Eckheart. Eleven." Elizabeth mock gasped in horror. "I was also excellent at Spin the Bottle."

"Not sure if I believe you on that. I might need a demonstration later," she told him boldly, even as self-doubt nagged at her to be quiet, begged her to take things slow. And she wanted to listen to it, she truly did. Disaster awaited them if this night ended up in a fiery crash of misplaced feelings and untamed lust.

Except that coy grin that he flashed her – the one that curled her toes and had other muscles spasm uncontrollably – made it impossible for her to do anything but hold tight, hoping to keep her wits about her so she wouldn't straddle him in the front seat.

The rest of the ride passed in a barrage of probing, sometimes flirtatious questions; everything from favorite places they'd traveled (the Spanish island of Lanzarote for Elizabeth and Tonga for Will, where Jack had taken him for his fourteenth birthday) to worst injuries (Elizabeth's fractured collarbone from tripping on her gown at a fundraiser, Will's three broken ribs and punctured lung falling from a speeding motorbike) to happiest birthday memories (the surprise party Bria had thrown for her twenty-first that included a performance by Ed Sheeran while Will remembered his mother taking him to South Wales for the day) and what felt like everything else in between. He was still telling the birthday story when he pulled the car onto the sidewalk of a nearly deserted street, close to the rundown dock where Will used to work at Brown's.

"It was one of the coldest Januarys I remember from England, but we bundled up and spent the day on the wharf, just the two of us," he told Elizabeth, helping her step out of the car, only instead of releasing her hand, he left them connected as he shut the door behind her, giving Elizabeth the chance to pull away if she wanted to. When she simply flexed her hand in his, loving the roughness of his callouses against her skin, he walked them up along the street. "Afterwards when we were back in London, we went to the local bakery and she let me pick out a banoffee pie for us to share for supper. I think it still might be the best thing I ever tasted in my life. No offense, of course."

"None taken. I love a challenge. You sound like her, you know."

"How do you mean?"

"The way you always try to make everything a big, magical adventure for Lucy, even when it's something simple like going to the marina or getting fruit at the market."

"I guess…I know that there's more out there than this place and for the longest time, I didn't think I'd ever be able to give her anything special," he admitted quietly. "So, the things I could give her, I wanted to make them matter as much as nice toys and all that jazz."

"The good life," Elizabeth scoffed. "Take it from me, William Turner, I had all those things and more at her age but even at six, a part of me knew I was missing things in life that money couldn't replace. Lucy is rich in all the ways that really matter thanks to you."

Her statement lingered in the quiet night air as they walked until Will finally asked, "You were really unhappy growing up?"

"Not all the time. I had my adventures with Bria and other friends that made the loneliness easier, more bearable. And…" she swallowed heavily, "And I did love being with my father when I was little. Sometimes, he'd take me to work with him. He'd let me sit at his desk to draw pictures and pretend we were having meetings. I'd sell him the Tower of London in exchange for extra marshmallows in my hot chocolate. He was so good to me then…"

Will's tender squeezing of her hand helped Elizabeth from falling back down into the painful abyss she'd been trapped in after the confrontation with Beckett. For nights afterwards, she had cried herself to sleep, agonizing over how she and her father had become so estranged, to the point where she wouldn't have been surprised to find out that the men had been given orders to bodily drag her back to London. Will's swift, violent defense had stopped that nightmare scenario and she could only imagine what he thought of her afterwards, letting herself be cowered by a loathsome underling like Beckett, too scared or shocked to even try and protect her – **their** – baby. Will had been the one holding her up all these months: supporting her decisions; helping her find work that inspired her instead of dulling her; opening his world and his makeshift family to her. She hated him to see how after all this time she still needed him to take care of her. It was why she had avoided him so much last week, reluctant for him to see her at yet another low.

But maybe she'd been wrong. After all, hadn't she told him less than an hour ago that she wanted him to know the real her? Part of that real person was a complicated woman with a psyche that could vault between fragile child and stubborn mule with the snap of a finger, with her fluctuating hormones only partially to blame.

She realized if this was going to work between them, she had to be strong enough to let him see her vulnerability.

Somehow.

"I'm not going to talk about my father anymore," she told Will with quiet conviction. "I'm not even going to think about him tonight or anything else that happened before I came here. I hate remembering how lost I felt, unable to find my own way or stand up for myself. Nowadays that life doesn't seem like my real one anymore."

"Since the baby," Will concluded.

 _No, since_ _ **you**_ _,_ she thought to herself.

Before she found the courage to say it out loud, Will tugged her gently into a darkened alleyway, moving them through the narrow path until they reached a thick wooden door painted to almost blend into the brick wall, with no sign nearby to distinguish it. Will knocked on it three times, paused, and then knocked three times again in a slower rhythm.

"A secret code?" Elizabeth asked in delight before Will held a finger to his lips.

A booming Gaelic voice on the other side of the door called out, "How many men would it take to lift this island to the heavens?"

"Depends," Will smirked. "If we're talking Englishmen, a thousand of us would never get it over our shoulders, but one properly motivated and drunk Irishman could get the job done by himself."

The door opened with a wave of sound behind it to reveal a mountain of a man, his beard a white island all its own. "Ah, Turner. Haven't taken your money in a while. Good to see you, lad." He turned a discerning eye towards Elizabeth. "And who might this fair maiden be?"

"Elizabeth Swann," she replied, sticking out her hand for an introduction before Will could speak for her.

His handshake was as fierce as his voice. "Colum Murphy."

"How do you do, sir?"

"A highborn lass from London?" Turning her hand in his, he kissed it soundly. "Don't know what to do with one of those."

"Well, if your Shepard's pie is half as good as Will claims it is, I'll be whatever you want me to be."

Colum gave a booming laugh. He turned to Will, poking him hard in the chest. "Keep her close to your side all night, boy, or she'll be walking out of here with a dozen marriage proposals. As for you, Miss Swann," he said with a wink and a bow, "welcome to the Peddler's Daughter."

Stepping inside the crowded space that seemed endless, Elizabeth took in the dark cherrywood walls filled with either sports memorabilia or flags of various sizes. A bar a good twenty-five feet long stood against one wall with at least a dozen different ale taps at both ends, almost every stool filled, as well as nearly all the small round tables in the pub. Those not drinking or eating while watching a soccer match on one of the large tv screens where shooting either pool or darts and true to Will's description, on the other side of the pub there was a large upright piano in the back corner. A stocky man was pounding on the keys in time to the women strumming a guitar next to him, with still more patrons clapping and stomping around them on the space set up for dancing

"This is amazing," Elizabeth told Will over the noise as he pulled her further inside, weaving them deftly through the scene to grab one of the last empty tables and pulling her chair out for her to sit. "It's like being back in Europe."

"That's what Jack was going for."

"This place is Jack's?"

"Colum owned a pub in Ireland that Jack frequented when he was back there. When he settled here, he convinced Colum to come over and open this place up by investing a good chunk of the start-up money. Wanted a place to get a decent pint in tropical paradise but didn't want it packed with stuck up tourists all the time, hence the secrecy. It's mostly locals and the like from Great Britain and the neighboring islands that ended up here."

"So, Jack has enough money lying around to open a pub on a whim?" Elizabeth mulled the possibilities in her head, quirking an eyebrow up expectantly. "Wonder how he managed that?"

"I know that all of his businesses are legitimate at the present moment," Will explained with a sly gleam in his eye. "Before that, I cannot comment. The last time I talked money with him was when he sold me the house six years ago."

"Must have given you a nice rate," she said offhandedly, thinking back to what Jack was pricing his properties at now to keep her in that same house with Will.

"Suppose so. And any other time, I would have fought him tooth and nail out of pride but," Will's face burned a little under his perfect goatee, "I really needed him and Anamaria close by back then with…"

 _Help keeping your junkie girlfriend clean so she could give birth to a healthy baby_ , Elizabeth thought to herself. The answer remained uncomfortably in the air between them until Elizabeth smiled, forcing the topic that always led to a surge of conflicting emotions away.

"What can I drink here? Do they have anything besides water to serve -?" The question died in her throat as a waitress quickly set a full glass in front of her and a stein of ale in front of Will before hurrying off without a word.

"I called ahead, had them get our drinks and food in before it turned into a madhouse." He nodded at her drink. "It's mango lemonade. Anamaria said you've chugging it down lately so I took a guess. I could have them get you…or, of course, you can tell them if you want something else."

She smiled at his sudden nervousness, showing she wasn't offended by him assuming anything. It was unbearably sweet instead of suffocating to have him try and anticipate her wants. Raising her glass in salute, she waited for him to tap his own to hers. "Cheers then. To an evening where we aren't cutting up someone's chicken for them."

"To not negotiating how many pieces of corn someone has to eat before they get dessert."

"To going to bed without having to read _Where the Wild Thing Are_ to someone and arguing with them about what Max's punishment should be."

"To waking up after the sun rises because someone isn't there to demand we go out early to make sandcastles before the ocean takes all the good sand for itself."

"To peace and quiet," Elizabeth finished with a sigh as she thought of how many more days it would be until Lucy came home, her arms suddenly longing to pull the little girl close to her.

"Peace and quiet," Will agreed, equally melancholy thinking about his daughter and missing her as much as Elizabeth was.

"Bria called you, right? They landed and checked in just fine. I talked to them before they left for dinner. I guess they're eating at someplace where…

"Pluto and Goofy come to the table. Yeah, we chatted for a bit. Lucy ran all over the hotel room describing everything to me, including the castle she could see out the window. Bria might have to sedate her to get her on the plane back."

The weight of their separation was starting to settle in Will's features, making her heart ache for him. Eager to bring that bit of spark back to his eyes, to make **him** feel better for once, Elizabeth scanned the room for a distraction, jumping up and grabbing his hand when she found one. "Come on, let's play a game of darts before the food comes."

"No, that's okay," he said, even as her let her pull him to the empty board.

"Oh, it'll be fun." Handing him the darts, she smiled enticingly. "I might even let you win if you ask me nicely."

"Ah, you're good then?"

"I'm excellent, Mr. Turner. I've taken down many a strapping gentleman in pubs all over England."

Will nodded to himself, turning the darts in his hand, testing their weight. "And did you ever consider that perhaps they were letting you win on the off chance they'd be able to steal a kiss afterwards?"

"No, because no one has ever stolen a kiss from me. I give them freely when they're earned." Elizabeth could feel the heat rising between them every second they stood together. To keep from ravaging him in public, she leaned against a wooden pillar next to the board and folded her arms, pushing her breasts up slightly more to throw him a little off balance.

It seemed to work as he shifted on his feet, stepping back a few paces away from her. "So, what you're implying is that if I beat you at darts," Will began, trailing his eyes up and down her teasingly, "I'll have earned a kiss."

"Well, if I did that, I'd be implying that I think it's possible for you to beat me in the first place, which is untrue. By all means, please give it your best effort. I'll even let you go first."

"Thank you." Looking her straight in the eye, he launched the first dart at the board, smiling when it landed on the bullseye with an audible pop.

Elizabeth stared at it in shock. "How on Earth…?"

"I'm sorry, has Gibbs not mentioned yet in one of his stories that he was an internationally ranked player in the eighties?" Will clucked his tongue in fake sympathy as her mouth hung open. "I think he might be a bit better than those drunk fancy boys you would so thoroughly whip."

Realizing the trouble she was in for, she murmured, "Uh-oh."

"Don't worry, I'll be quick about it."

True to his word, he was, although Elizabeth tried to delay the inevitable by making him shoot with his left hand and insisting he stand at least ten feet farther back then she was. When the scores were tallied, he had thoroughly whipped her, but she didn't mind one bit; getting to see him relax and let loose for once was a revelation. His easy laughter was one of the sweetest sounds she ever heard, making her ready to lose any game or sport if she could hear it more often. After they finished, their food was quickly delivered before he could inquire about his prize (or she could offer), and Elizabeth's mouth watered at the succulent aroma waiting for them at their table.

Will was pulling her chair out again when she saw him frown at something at the bar. "What's wrong?"

"Just some fellows eyeing me sideways." He waved them off as he tucked into his fish and chips. "No big deal."

"Do you know them?" Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder to find three men nodding to their table, disgustedly snorting and talking under their breaths around their shot glasses.

"They're dock rats, guys that are only on a crew when someone's desperate for help. Worked with them when I was younger. When the shipyard opened, they applied but I rejected them, and they didn't take it well. Lots of cussing me out, even accused me of having an inappropriate relationship with my mother. The tall one with the earring?" Will nodded towards a man about their age, his hair in tight cornrows with bulging forearms covered in tattoos. "He's Gabriel Palmer, the ringleader. He supplements his income by running dope off his sailboat. I didn't want them anywhere near this job."

"Smart. Hank probably would've…" Elizabeth trailed off, moaning in ecstasy as the first taste of Shepard's pie hit her tongue, all thoughts of dock rats obliviated. "Oh my God, this is heaven!" Will's face crinkled in amusement and Elizabeth retaliated by swiftly grabbing a handful of chips from his basket, swatting at his hand when he tried to stop her. "That's what you get for laughing at your son's mother."

"You blame your thieving tendencies on our child? Nice."

Her heart turned over at hearing him refer to the baby as "theirs". It was wonderful, the idea of sharing anything at all with him, but sharing her son, her most precious gift, with Will? It was beyond words.

Still, perhaps that was too much to share on a first date. To cover for it, she joked, "All my thieving tendencies existed before this little boy."

Will pointed a chip at her accusingly. "I knew you had a dark side buried under all that light and goodness. So, what did you nick then? Let me guess: crystal vase?"

"Nope."

"Gold coins?" She shook her head, digging into her delicious meal with more fervor as he continued to speculate. "A small Picasso? A purse poodle from some insipid debutante? A necklace from the Tower of London? Come on, you have to tell me."

"A police car." Grinning madly, she took a dainty bite of her food, loving the stages of shock his handsome face went through. "See, even a highborn lass can have some proper fun once in a while."

"Explain. Explain in great detail."

"I was sixteen. I was at a party that was going into its second night and we were all flying high on liquor and whatever pills we pulled out of our parents' cupboards. Someone had the bright idea to go to Trafalgar Square, so we all took a limo, indulging in the minibar on the way. When we got there and started carousing in the fountains like a bunch of loons, the police were not amused. While they were questioning us, one of the guys I was trying to impress pointed out the keys hanging from one of the officer's pocket to his friend. With none of my useful brain cells working, I grabbed them and made a break for the car. I had the sirens blaring before anyone even noticed and when they started running towards me, I sped off."

"Where were you going?"

"Not sure. Didn't plan that far ahead, just wanted to feel a rush of excitement. Or, you know, anything at all. Nothing bad happened, though, no one was hurt or anything damaged, so it was just swept away under the rug. Like a lot of things."

Shaking her head, she shoved another forkful of food into her mouth before she said anything else personal, feeling foolish for revealing so much in front of him, though he let it go with only a simple smile of compassion.

 _God, how does he do this? How does he open me up so easily? Father wasted untold sums of money on my mental health and all he had to do to get me to talk was put me in front of this man._

Wanting to get back on a more even playing field with Will, she pasted on a cheery grin and said, "Okay, the poor little rich girl confessed; now it's your turn. What's the worst thing that Will Turner has ever done in his young life?" Instantly, whatever easiness she had coaxed out of him earlier vanished, giving way to a troubled shadow that dimmed his eyes and made him examine the crumbs in his basket, searching for answers. Regret flooded her at bringing up such a painful memory for him and she hurried to apologize. "Will, please forgive me. I shouldn't have-"

"I tried to give Lucy away."

She blinked, sure he hadn't said what she just thought. "What?"

"I almost put her up for adoption." When she didn't respond, not understanding what he meant, he continued, "When she was a baby, after…after I was left alone with her, I thought that maybe it would be better for her if she had more than me raising her so I…I made the arrangements and brought her to the lawyer to give her up but I…I couldn't…" Will's voice trailed off. He sharply cleared his throat, his words hovering over them as if suspended from a guillotine, waiting for Elizabeth's judgement or reprieve.

To her horror, she wanted to reach across the table and slap him. He had laid himself bare of his most intimate secret, one perhaps only Jack was privy to before her, and her first instinct was to lash out at him for almost giving up the child who had quickly become a necessity to her. Anger flooded her at the mere idea of never knowing Lucy; never baking with her or giggling with her or sharing a quick cuddle on the sofa before bedtime. She had nearly made up her mind to march straight out of the pub when she felt the baby move, giving her much-needed clarity.

Could she have done it? With only a friend or two for support and no steady work, would she have chosen him if he came into her life at that point? Would she have been able to hold her baby boy in her arms and then somehow decide to give him away, never to see him again?

Now, at twenty-four, it hadn't even been a question. At nineteen though? Thoroughly under her father's control and without the quiet strength that Will always exuded? She wasn't sure what her answer would've have been. That pause alone filled her with such shame.

How was it fair to fault Will when he had hesitated for one similar moment? Especially when whatever she felt now couldn't hold a candle to the shame that Will seemed to still carry this day. Her fury abated as she took in the man she loved, still punishing himself all these years later.

When her thoughts were finally in order, she quietly asked him, "Why couldn't you?"

"Because," he said without looking up from the table, his voice so small, "I loved her. More than that, I-I needed her. I told myself at the time that she shouldn't be abandoned like I was, but deep down I just couldn't let her go. It was the most selfish choice I ever made and the only way I could justify it was to put every part of myself into being her father. She had to be the focus of my world because deep down, I thought I robbed her of parents who would have been better for her."

His words dumbfounded her. In shock, her self-doubt couldn't stop her from saying, "But there's no one better than you."

"Elizabeth, please, you don't-"

"Do you honestly believe that there's another person in this world that could love that girl the way you do? Who could make her as happy as she is with you? Don't you know how good of a father – a **man** – you are, Will?"

His flinch at the earnestness of her tone was all the answer she needed. Still, he tried to say, "Maybe we should go and…We can head back to the house if you want."

Leaving wasn't what she wanted. With something bordering on desperation, what Elizabeth needed was to take him into her arms and hold him, comfort him in a way that he probably hadn't been since he was boy. The gentle strain of a guitar broke through the ambient noise of the pub and she stood, holding out her hand to him.

"Dance with me."

"I don't…This isn't -" He met her eyes and whatever he saw in them held his reservations back long enough for her to push through

"Please," she murmured tenderly. "Dance with me, Will."

With fingers slightly shaking, he let her take him out of his seat, watching her through unblinking eyes as she led them backwards to join the other couples on the makeshift dancefloor. Swallowing deeply, Elizabeth slowly lifted her arms over Will's head, twinning her hands at the back of his neck and pulling herself against him to rest her chin on his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut when she felt his own hands settle on her hips, swaying them both to the ballad the woman was singing with her airy voice.

 _Something in your eyes  
Makes me want to lose myself  
Makes me want to lose myself  
In your arms_

 _There's something in your voice  
Makes my heart beat fast  
Hope this feeling lasts  
The rest of my life  
_

 _If you knew how lonely my life has been  
And how long I've been so alone  
If you knew how I wanted someone to come along  
And change my life the way you've done_

Elizabeth listened to the lyrics of the song, astonished, as if the singer was playing it especially for them. Carefully, waiting for any sign of discomfort from him, she slowly shifted her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, smiling when his breath brushed unsteadily against her neck.

She wanted every moment from now on to be **this** moment; this perfect, serene moment where nothing existed outside of the two of them and this lovely music.

 _It feels like home to me  
It feels like home to me  
It feels like I'm all the way back where  
I come from_

 _It feels like home to me  
It feels like home to me  
Feels like I'm all the way back where I belong_

"You're the best man I've ever known," she whispered in his ear. "Whomever it was that made you think otherwise is a stupid blighter that I'd be happy to set straight."

He didn't respond other than to trace his own fingers up the base of her spine in a rhythm that melted her even further into his hard body. The baby stirred again and she smiled wider, imaging their son knowing he was nestled in between his parents.

 _A window breaks down a long dark street  
And a siren wails in the night  
But I'm alright 'cause I have you here with me  
And I can almost see through the dark there is light_

 _If you knew how much this moment means to me  
And how long I've waited for your touch  
If you knew how happy you are making me  
I never thought that I'd love anyone so much_

"You know, there's something I've been meaning to tell you for a long time now," Will breathed into her ear, sending sparks of wonderful heat all through her, almost paralyzing her with desire.

"What?"

He pulled back slightly so she could see his face, their noses brushing against each other. "I'm really glad you wanted to be Three Drink Lizzie that night."

Elizabeth smiled crookedly at him, feeling for the first time in her young life that her fractured heart was healing as Will looked at her with such sincerity and warmth. "Not nearly as glad as I am that you sat down next to me."

 _It feels like home to me  
It feels like home to me  
It feels like I'm all the way back where  
I come from  
_

 _It feels like home to me  
It feels like home to me  
Feels like I'm all the way back where I belong_

She remembered once telling Lucy what fate was and though she had understood the concept, she had never believed in it until now, standing in Will's arms as her truth was sung to them.

When the song finally ended, Will looked down at her with such devotion, making her feel adored in a way she had never even dared hoped for in her life. With breathless focus, she brought one hand up to cup his cheek, her thumb playing at the edge of his mouth, watching as it curled into a small grin when his hand at her back started pressing her in closer. Her eyes fluttered shut, every synapse in her brain working overtime to lock this memory into a vault to treasure for all time when –

"Bloody hell! I'm sorry, ducky!"

The older woman's voice registered for Elizabeth first followed immediately by the chill of sticky ale running down her left side and her own gasp of surprise. She almost screamed out loud when Will reluctantly released her to the waitress that had tripped into them with a full tray. Fingering the stain on her new dress, Elizabeth murmured in a daze, "Bria's going to kill me."

"She bought that for you?" Elizabeth nodded with a grimace. "Then she's forgiven for every insult she ever threw my way." Her tension needing some outlet of relief, laughter bubbled up out of her and only grew when Will joined her, the absurdity of their situation too much.

"Come on then." The plump waitress was back at her side, tugging her away from Will. "Let's get you sorted out in the back." The woman bodily put her arm around Elizabeth's shoulder, leading her to the dingy restroom, but not before she shared one last smile with Will, this one filled with promise. "Some vinegar and warm water should do the trick, then we'll get you back to your man 'fore other ladies get any ideas."

"If they do, I might be breaking a few noses," Elizabeth mumbled to herself.

"Well for blood stains, we'll need baking soda," the waitress said with a quick wink, handing her the vinegar and leaving Elizabeth to clean herself up.

 _He was going to kiss me_ , she thought in disbelief. _He was really going to kiss me for all the world to see. And he still might…but not here._

Free of the haze from dancing and touching him, she knew securing their relationship with a kiss wasn't something she wanted to share with a crowd. When she was finished, she'd ask to go back to the house and when they got there, she'd take his hand and walk down to the beach with him, listening to the waves crash around them as she kissed him for all she was worth.

Smiling at her reflection, she tried to imagine what would happen after. Would Will take the initiative and lower her down onto the sand or would she have to move them along herself? As much as Will seemed to like her dress, maybe removing it front of him out in the open was needed to show him how she wanted the evening to end. However, that would lead to him getting a good look at her now-ungainly stomach, so maybe…

Goodness, she was actually making a plan for how to seduce him tonight! Subconsciously, that might have been her goal for this date, but she had never truly thought it was possible. Now on the precipice of taking this next step, her nerves roared back with a vengeance.

 _It won't matter. He's attracted to you. He'll want you, belly and all._

"You love him," Elizabeth told the woman looking back at her from the mirror, pinching her cheeks and smoothing down her now-clean dress. "If you give him a chance to, maybe he'll love you someday."

Her encouraging smile, though, quickly turned into a small shriek when a loud crash reverberated through the small bathroom from the pub. Throwing open the door, she rushed out only to be caught in a wall of people near the bar.

There were shouts and small brawls breaking out all along its length and the bartenders were doing their best to bring the pub back to order. Finally fighting her way through, her cry was drowned out by Will's fist colliding with Gabriel Palmer's jaw, both men already a bit bloodied with Will sporting a nasty gash on his cheek. The other man quickly recovered from Will's punch and landed one of his own in Will's stomach, making him double over in pain.

"WILL!" Without thinking of her own safety, she tried to rush to his side but was stopped by different arms holding her at bay. She screamed for him again, horrified at what injuries awaited him if this continued, only to have Will land a sneaky elbow to Palmer's chin before grabbing him by the hair and smashing his face into the bar top.

Thankfully, Colum wedged himself between the two men before it escalated further, pushing Will away from him and grabbing something from his pocket. Motioning for two of staff to guard the men, he scanned the room until he found Elizabeth.

"Get him home now," he ordered when he reached her, handing her Will's car keys. "Before the police show up and throw his sorry arse in a jail cell."

"What happened?!"

Colum growled, sneering at the dazed man sprawled on the floor of his pub. "Turner didn't take too kindly to Mr. Palmer there making insinuations about you, lass."

"M-Me?" Elizabeth stared at Will, his chest still heaving while his stormy eyes shot bullets at the scowling Palmer.

 _He fought like a deranged animal because someone made a comment about me?_

"Leave. Now." Colum pressed her towards the exit. "I'll phone Sparrow, have him sort this out. Keep Will at the house for a couple of days 'till this blows over."

Without warning she was outside in the alleyway again, paralyzed for a moment until Will stumbled out to join her. When the door shut behind him and they were left in silence, he took a cautious step towards her. "Elizabeth, I'm-"

She didn't let him finish, turning sharply on her heel and stalking towards the car, ignoring him as he gingerly got in the passenger side. It was the same all through the ride home, though he didn't make an attempt to speak to her either, choosing to brood out the window into the night. It was such a contrast to their drive into town a few hours ago; one that had been full of nerves, yes, but also full of hope and promise of things to come. Now there was a myriad of emotions swirling unspoken between them again, none of them happy.

When Elizabeth finally parked the car, she slammed the door behind her and stomped around the house to the beach, flinging her heels off when she almost tripped pacing wildly in the sand.

It might have been a moment or a hundred, but she eventually felt Will's hand on her shoulder. Before he could speak, she reared back and slapped him.

"What is wrong with you?!" Elizabeth cried out, not caring if Jack or Anamaria or even Bootstrap heard her. She saw the dried blood on his cheek and felt like screaming herself raw. "How could you do that?"

"I'm sorry if I-"

"Sorry? You're bloody sorry?!" Elizabeth began hitting him as hard as she could in the chest, ignoring his wincing. "You fucking bastard!"

He let her pummel him without complaint until she started breathing loudly. Grabbing her wrists gently, he said, "Stop. This isn't good for the baby."

"What the hell do you care about this baby?! You picked a fight with that lowlife and made me watch him beat you! Do you think **that** was good for the baby?" She struggled to free herself while she fought to stem her angry tears. "Do you think seeing you put yourself in jeopardy because someone made a comment about my tits or how easy I am was good for me?"

He clenched his jaw tightly at her words. "Elizabeth, just stop."

"I don't care what he said about me! I don't care if he and his friends said they wanted to take turns with me in the back room! You do not get to-"

"To what?" Will hissed back at her, blackness suddenly entering his eyes. "Defend you? Make people understand that they can't talk about you like that?"

"Oh please! You knew that women spent months calling me a slut behind my back and you did nothing!"

"That was different. They were gossipy bitches that were jealous that someone younger and more beautiful than them was living here, not a group of spineless thugs that don't hesitate to use violence on women when they get an answer they don't like. If I hear anyone threatening your safety – be they a local criminal or your scum of a father – I will protect you and our son no matter what. Do you understand me?!"

Breaking loose, she slapped him again, this time on his cut cheek, sending him staggering back. "You do not get to put yourself in harm's way," Elizabeth ordered lowly, "just because you took me to bed one night and forgot the fucking condom!"

Striding past him, she matched into the house and headed for her room, fully prepared to tear it to shreds in her anger. Not only was he willing to start brawls instead of walking away from them, but he had the audacity to do it in her name? The idea of him lying prone in a hospital bed or – God in heaven help her, a **coffin** – someday was agonizing enough; that she would be the reason that he did it, all because she was carrying his baby, was something she'd never survive.

She loved him. She needed him alive and whole, always.

 _How could he be blind to that? How could he -?_

The door burst open behind her before the thoughts could string together. Will stood in front of her, pulses of masculine energy beating from him. Without giving her a second to recover, he took her by the shoulders and backed her against the bureau, trapping her there.

"Stop making a mockery of me, Elizabeth," he pleaded, leaning in close to her. "I haven't asked anything of you since you came here, but I am begging you to stop pretending that you don't know what you're doing to me because I'm about to lose what's left of my sanity if you keep at this game."

"Let go of me," she growled, again struggling against him and the tender ache crawling its way through her chest.

"Not until you promise that you'll stop!"

"Stop what?! What is it that I'm pretending with you?!"

"That you don't know how much I love you."

Will's words were small, a frantic whisper that she only heard because of her nearness to him, but they rang louder than a scream in her weary, shell-shocked mind. Her lungs fought against her body's disbelief, trying to take in air as she stood slack and unblinking; trying to understand what Will had just told her.

 _Love?! LOVE?! He loves me? He can't…He doesn't mean…He's just saying that because of the baby! He said it a million times to Rebecca, I know it! He can't possibly…_

"W-What are you talking about?" Elizabeth managed to breathe out in between tiny gasps.

She watched his shoulders sag and he slowly backed away, leaving her only the wall for support. "I didn't mean to say it like that," he told her, hanging his head and she braced herself for his explanation of paternal devotion. "I've been…Since you came here…What the hell am I saying? I knew that night at the club that I wasn't good enough for you." She frowned, baffled at what he meant. "Then you came back to tell me about the baby, and you met Lucy and I saw you with her, and I…" He broke off into a painful laugh. "Even though I knew deep down that I couldn't give you everything you deserved, I've tried. Elizabeth, I swear I've tried to give you more."

 _I deserve more from him? What else is left? He's given me his entire world. How can he imagine that I want or need more than that? Than him?_

His earnest desperation finally released the tears she had been keeping pent up all night. "Will, I don't-"

"Because you could have any man you wanted. I know that you're only here with me because of the baby."

 _The baby? But…But the baby is the only reason_ _ **you're**_ _with me…right?_

"And I'm grateful, more than I'm able to say, because being with you has been like…like something I didn't realize I needed had been missing in my life and then suddenly you're here, making it what it should have been, only even better."

 _No, no, that's what you are to me, Will!_ Elizabeth thought, her head beginning to throb as it fought against her thundering, euphoric heart. _I can't be…Am I really that for you?_

All at once, a barrage of images flooded over her: his sweet smile at the club; his anguished resolve at the hotel when she told him she'd raise the baby alone; his jubilation when she handed him back the scan and he offered her a room; his amazement when she first put his hand on her stomach and the countless moments in between, often with Lucy in the middle of them, when Will seemed to her blissfully happy.

Jack had told her once that she didn't understand how much Will had changed since she met him. Had that been what the devilish rascal meant? Was he happy simply because he was going to be a father again or was it…

 _Me?_

"But this isn't fair to you," he whispered, running both hands through his hair and putting his back to her. "It's not right to keep you bound to someone, to a life you didn't choose. I can't make you feel things that you don't."

 _But I do! I do feel things! I feel more than things! I…I….I…_

Her jaw was clenched tight and her hands clenched into fists that were frozen against the wood. As loud as she screamed in her mind, her voice couldn't lift more than a whimper, fear locking her into place. Things would never be the same. He'd always know he had command of her world if she told him. Giving up that kind of control, putting herself fully in his hands and trusting him with her heart was akin to jumping off a bridge, hoping he'd be there to catch her.

Could she do it?

Against her fingertips, she felt the edge of one of the photographs of her mother from earlier. All at once, her mother's voice rang loud and true in her ears:

 _Be brave and bold, my Liza. Always reach out for want for you want in this life with no apologies or hesitation._

She had spent too much of her life already ignoring her mother's final instructions.

"No more," she said to herself.

She saw Will nod stoically. "I'll, uh, go crash next door for the night," he said, misunderstanding her yet still putting her needs first. "In the morning, I'll make sure Jack can put you up somewhere else if you-" Will's offer sputtered to an abrupt stop as Elizabeth launched herself towards him, pulling his head down and crushing her mouth to his.

It had been a one hundred and thirty-one days since their goodbye kiss above the Black Pearl, but to Elizabeth it might have only been an hour since then, so familiar were the contours of his lips against hers. She put everything she had – every emotion, every rush of passion she had felt in those long one hundred and thirty-one days – into the kiss, only slightly put off when Will stood there motionless.

Finally pulling back, she pressed her forehead to his and stared deep into his soul while she caught her breath. "I love you," she murmured, both their eyes widening at the weight of her confession.

"What?" Now it was Will's turn to be a muddled mess, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it. "W-What are you -?"

"I love you," she repeated, pressing in for another kiss that Will pulled away from all too quickly.

"Elizabeth, you can't-"

She kissed him again, rapidly becoming addicted to it and to the words she couldn't keep inside any longer. "I love you."

"No, this isn't what I…" He pulled back from her searching kiss though his hands rested on her hips. "I didn't say it to-"

"I love you, Will Turner. I love you." Giggling and giddy, she rested her forehead against his again, feeling the pressure that had been coiling in her body ever since he had come into her life melt away. "I love you."

She could see him struggle mightily to quell the spark of hope that shone in his eyes, reason battling a suddenly fierce foe in his heart's desires. "You don't…You don't have to think that…I know with the baby things have been-"

"I loved you before I even knew about the baby," she admitted, to both him and herself. "I got back to London and I couldn't even function because all I wanted to do was remember you. Nothing could distract me: not work or Bria or that horrid date she sent me on."

"Date?" Will's interest immediately piqued. "What date? You went on a date?"

"Leave it alone, it was bloody awful."

"Really?"

"Of course. The pounce hit on the waitress and he wasn't you." She kissed him again, happy when he started to return it tentatively. This time, he tugged her closer, fisting her dress in his hands when her tongue traced against his. When air became a necessary evil, she released his mouth, crying happy tears this time when she saw his lips curve into a smile. "I love you."

"Elizabeth…" One hand came up to caress her cheek, almost testing to see if she and this moment were real. His touch was worshipful, reverent even, and Elizabeth had never felt more cherished. Shoving whatever anxiety remained aside, she stepped back enough to slowly lift her dress off, casting it aside to meet his gaze head on.

"I love you."

She had been prepared for him to be surprised by her naked, ever-growing figure; perhaps even nervous or a bit put off and she had properly braced herself for it. Never, though, had she imagined baring herself to Will and having him stare at her body with such undisguised desire. His fingers ghosted over her face all the way down to the space in between her breasts and finally stroking the swell of her stomach, setting every part of her on fire.

"Will," she moaned, her eyes falling closed. "Please…"

Yanking her against him, he kissed her with such ferocity she barely registered the feeling of him lifting his against him and being laid down on the bed.

"I love you too," he whispered into the shell of her ear before his lips began their journey over her flesh, the last thing her mind comprehended for the rest of night as her body ascended to the heavens.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Hey everyone! So sorry for the delay, major computer issues. It's a nice long one to make up for it though, full of lots of mushy goodness you guys have probably been craving. Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

 _Will blinked against the sunlight, shielding his eyes with one hand, the other wrapped securely around Elizabeth. He smiled, feeling the bump of her belly along his hip, savoring this rare moment of utter peace. Softly, he brushed his lips over her face until he reached her delicate mouth, his kisses nudging her awake._

" _Good morning," he whispered._

 _She answered with a small groan. "It's far too early for anything to be good about it."_

" _You're lucky I love you enough to give you a bit of lie in then." He let his kiss turn lingering, groaning when hers turned insistent. "Unless, of course, I can interest you in something that requires a little more effort?"_

" _I am more than up for that, good sir." Just as he settled her over his lap, her stomach interrupted them with a loud rumble and Will grumbled into her collarbone. "Your child, on the other hand…"_

" _Fine, fine. Breakfast it is then." Still, he couldn't resist kissing his way down her body until his face was level with their unborn baby. "And good morning to you, Sa-"_

" _Savannah," Elizabeth cut in, tilting his chin up, her voice suddenly turning stern. "Her name is Savannah Marie Turner. That's what we're calling her. Do you understand me?_ _ **Savannah**_ _."_

 _Shooting her a playful smirk, he planted a smacking kiss on her belly. "Good morning,_ _ **Savvy**_ _."_

" _She's not going by that."_

" _Oh, yes she is." At her glare, he tickled her sides until she relented. "You're the one that bet the baby's name against Jack, luv, not me."_

 _She fell back against the pillows in a huff, explaining yet again, "I had four aces!"_

" _And he had a straight flush, which means in three months, we're going to be holding our beautiful little Savvy in our arms." Sliding out of bed, he hurried to dress when he heard Lucy's voice from the hallway, gently scolding the twins, Abigail and Annie, as they tried to sneak into her room. "Ah, the horde awakens. What shall I forage for them and my bride?"_

" _Omelets," Elizabeth replied, burrowing into the blankets to steal a few more minutes of rest, which Will was all too happy to give her. "Big, fluffy omelets with lots of ham."_

 _Will laughed to himself. They never needed to do a gender test anymore. In this, her fourth pregnancy, Elizabeth craved eggs in every variety with all the girls. The only time she hadn't been able to tolerate them was their son's first trimester._

 _Leaning down, he stole one more kiss, still finding it hard to believe after all these years that happiness felt like this. "Deal," he said, nuzzling his cheek into her hand, never tiring of feeling her wedding band on his skin…_

Will's eye snapped open, every sense immediately on alert as he awoke in a strange place. Trying to get up, he felt a weight across his chest, blinking in amazement when he breathed in Elizabeth's indelible floral scent; the night before crashed around his mind in fragments until he registered her bare skin pressed to his, one moment in particular etched permanently to his soul:

She loved him.

Elizabeth Swann loved him.

How it happened would forever remain a mystery to him. Staring up at the ceiling of his old bedroom, Will was disbelieving that the last twelve hours or so had unfolded the way they had. Wrapping his free arm around her shoulder, he pulled her tight against him as she slept, afraid to let her go; afraid if he did for even a moment, he'd wake from this dream to a cold reality where she'd rightfully left him knocked down in the pub.

But she hadn't. She had screamed and raged and probably come close to strangling him in her anger. Yet just when he was convinced that he was (finally) irredeemable in her eyes, just when he had convinced himself that he was (finally) strong enough to let her go for her own good, Elizabeth threw his noble intentions to the wayside by kissing him into submission and declaring her love for him with such vehemence he had eventually let himself be pulled under. Before he knew what was happening, he was kissing her back with all the longing he had suppressed these past months. Right when the thought formed that he had never wanted a woman more, she took off that damnable dress that had nearly killed him at first sight, showing everything she was giving to him with her changing body. Control was impossible after that and they spent the rest of the night in the throes of lovemaking, letting their bodies reconfirm over and over again what had been unspoken for too long:

He loved her and by a miracle he'd never understand, she loved him in return.

Whatever debt he owed the universe, he'd pay it gladly ten times over to be able to hold her like this. Running his fingers through her hair, he shifted slightly to kiss her forehead, smiling when she snuggled further into his chest.

 _I'll make myself worthy of you_ , he vowed silently to her. _No matter what, I'll do whatever it takes to be who you need me to be._

A loud buzzing against the floor ended his contemplation and he slid as carefully out of Elizabeth's embrace as he could, laying her head gently on the pillow and covering her before searching for his phone. When he found it, the text message from Bria was short and to the point:

" **Your daughter will call in two minutes. Don't be starkers when she does."**

With quiet haste, he pulled on his boxers and undershirt, just closing the bedroom door behind him when the phone buzzed again with Bria's number. "Hey sweetheart," he answered. "How are you?"

"Daddy, how did you know it was me?"

"Because I wanted it to be you." Stepping onto the deck he nearly stumbled over a pair of Lucy's sandals, wondering for half a second where they'd come from before he focused on the little girl hundreds of miles from him. "I missed you so much, I wished you into calling me."

"I miss you, too, and Elizabeth. Can I say good morning to her?"

"Uh, she's, um, still sleeping."

"She is? Doesn't she have work?"

In fact, she didn't on account of Will calling in a few favors with Anamaria. There had been nebulous hopes of how they'd share their weekend together, all of which had a good chance of happening, but none which he could share with a five-year-old.

To cover, he asked, "You are on the biggest adventure of your life, young lady, and all you can talk about is a grown-up's work hours? You must be bored out of your mind there. Maybe you and Bria should come back."

"NO!" Lucy cried out in horror. "We haven't even gone on the pirate ride yet! I need to go on it at least twenty times before we can leave!"

"Twenty times? That sounds like a challenge. What else are you going to do?" Will asked, leaning against the rail. The next ten minutes were spent listening to Lucy chatter on about fireworks, waffles shaped like Mickey Mouse, and an itinerary of rides that left her jumping on the bed in her excitement of just thinking about them. Will let her ramble uninterrupted, simply happy to hear her voice. "I miss you," he said when there was a break in the conversation. "I wish I could be there, Lucy-Goosey."

"You can come next time. I'll know everything the four of us should do then so I'll have to be in charge."

"Four?"

"You, me, Elizabeth, and my brother."

For the first time, Will let himself see a future where they weren't fragmented into pairs – he with Lucy and Elizabeth with the baby – but one where they were all together. Not off on a magical vacation somewhere one day, just here at the house, sharing a mundane breakfast together; Elizabeth braiding Lucy's hair for school while Will tried to coax another mouthful of porridge into their uncooperative son; sharing looks of amusement over the kids' heads; perhaps even imagining adding another child to the chaos.

"Yeah," Will agreed quietly. "Yeah, the four of us together sounds amazing."

"Bria wants to talk to you now, Daddy."

"Okay, you go brush your teeth then. Front and back for two minutes."

"I will. Oh, and did you remember to read a bedtime story to all my stuffed animals last night? I don't want them to be scared because I'm not there."

 _Nope, got a little busy. In more ways than one._

Will barely held back a snort at his unintentional pun before he recovered with, "They were actually all fast asleep when I got in and I didn't want to wake them. I will tell them two tonight, though, deal?"

"Deal." Through the phone, she sent him a noisy kiss. "I love you!"

"Love you more," he replied with his own kiss.

"That better have been for the child and not for me," Bria told him, sounding as if she swallowed a mug full of gravel. "Because I will find a way to slap you from a different continent."

"How did she do? Was she scared or too-?"

"She tried to make friends with every bloody person she saw at the hotel, including the staff. The bellhop was in here almost a half hour before she let him leave. You do know you've actually raised her to be quite resilient, right? There's not much cause to worry over her cowering in the corner."

"I know, I just…"

"Yes, merciless wench that I am, I understand. Your girl is aces, how's mine?"

Will saw Elizabeth as he left her, breathing evenly amongst the rumpled sheets, looking more beautiful than any fantasy he had concocted since he met her. "She's asleep," he said, feeling his face break into a wide grin.

Bria sighed softly with acceptance, hearing everything he didn't say. "If you break her heart, I swear on every piece of Gucci I own that I will kill you."

"If I ever did, I'd let you."

"Smart boy. Alright, I'm going to go let my ears be assailed by screeching children and cartoon music for eight hours while you continue debauching my best friend so do me a favor: Lizzie is pregnant-"

"Really? Hadn't noticed."

"-and has wanted to shag your bits off for months now." His skin flushed and he shifted, his body still responding to the idea even though they had spent the night doing so. "Don't let her overdue it is all I'm asking. She's not always good at knowing her limits when she's randy. Save the Karma Sutra fun for after the bairn is evicted, eh?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack emerge from his house and begin to wander over. "Just keep Lucy safe and take lots of pictures. I'll call tonight."

"Unless your mouth is otherwise occupied."

"Goodbye, Bria." Hanging up the phone, he nodded towards his old friend. "Early morning for you."

Jack thrust a heavy brown bag into Will's arms. "Breakfast, courtesy of me lady." He leered knowingly. "She figured Lizzie would be quite preoccupied this fine morn and you, of course, are quite lackin' in the culinary arts."

"I kept my daughter healthy with my cooking all these years."

"She's young. Her system could digest feces-flavored cardboard if it had to."

"Well, thank you then." He peered inside to find a variety of warm muffins and wrapped breakfast sandwiches. "Anamaria send this from the café?"

"She did, 'long with this." Jack smacked him hard upside the head, making Will see stars for a brief second. "What you get when you go lookin' for trouble with Palmer and his pestilent-ridden cockstains."

"I wasn't looking for it," Will denied with a glare, which Jack met dubiously. "You didn't hear what they were saying about Elizabeth, right to my face."

"Where they near her when they said it?"

"No."

"Any of them have a weapon on them?"

"Of course not."

"And did they say they'd find her when she was by her lonesome somewhere?" At Will's brooding silence, Jack continued, "Then you be a real man and walk away next time."

"Jack, I couldn't-"

"Not even a week ago, you nearly lost your marbles after defendin' Lizzie from an actual threat 'cause you knew how easy it would be for you to wind up back in the clink." Jack clucked his tongue in disapproval. "How quickly we forget, young Turner."

Will brought himself up to full height, getting close enough to Jack's face that he could count every whisker on it. "So you're telling me if some chaps came up to you saying Anamaria deserved not dinner and dancing, but a few hours on a mattress in the back of a van, like the whore she really is, you could have been a 'real man' and walked away?"

Jack gave him a cruel smile. "Not in a million years for a million dollars. Of course, you are forgettin' that I don't have a precocious little girl who would be most devastated if she had to be told her daddy was sittin' alone in a jail cell." Properly chagrined, Will cast his eyes away, flinching slightly when Jack clasped a hand on his shoulder. "Luckily, the coppers were otherwise occupied last night so you should be in the clear. Although, Colum did say that Palmer was yappin' about gettin' a bloodsucker to sue you for grievous bodily harm."

"Oh joy."

"Don't worry. Plenty of witnesses to say you was provoked and even if there aren't, money does wonders for people's memories."

Will narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You wouldn't actually…?"

"You're finally earnin' a decent wage on your own, whelp. Stupid as you were, I'm not gonna let a drug pusher take it from you for simply defendin' your lady's honor." He cocked his head towards the house. "Assumin' that she **is** your lady now, correct?"

Will nodded, staring thoughtfully out onto the water. "If she'll have me, then yes."

"Good. Took you long enough." With that last dig, Jack was off, wobbling through the sand and Will smiled in his wake. For all of Jack's faults that brought him endless grief and frustration, without the wily pirate there would be no good in Will's life either:

No friends that he'd die for.

No sailing adventures that most dreamed of.

No Lucy.

No Elizabeth.

After last night, such a notion was too much. Striding inside, he quickly put their makeshift breakfast together on a tray with drinks and tiptoed quietly back into Elizabeth's room, stopping along the way in the bathroom to swish around some mouthwash. In her sleep, she had turned onto her back and while she remained covered, the curve of her belly was noticeable beneath the thin sheets. He sat the tray on the crowded end table, accidently knocking over a notebook full of Elizabeth's scribbled writing and despite himself, he sat on the bed to read through it, smiling wider when he saw dozens of lists: some do's and don'ts for expectant mothers; items to buy for the baby; new recipes for the café; and even an extensive one for Lucy's upcoming birthday.

 _An inflatable pirate ship?_ Will thought bemusedly. _God, she and Lucy were made for each other_.

A gentle hand cupped his right cheek and he glanced down to find Elizabeth staring sleepily up at him. "Hi," she whispered.

"Hi." When she didn't speak again, Will felt a small sense of panic begin to engulf him until he remembered how sure she had been last night. Seeing as she took the lead then, he figured it was his turn to take the initiative and he leaned down to kiss her lips, sighing inwardly when her hand moved to pull his head closer.

She didn't regret it. She didn't regret picking him.

Finally, she released him, keeping her hand on his cheek and stroking his stubble. "You were snooping."

"Only a little."

"I should punish you for that."

"But I brought a peace offering." He placed the tray carefully over her lap. "Am I forgiven?"

"Only a little."

Suddenly, Will remembered something and stood, unable to stop himself from pressing another quick kiss to her lips. "Be right back." When he returned with a jar of peanut butter, he was surprised to find that she had pulled on his wrinkled shirt from the night before but found the sight almost as alluring as her naked flesh and chose to simply present her with his offering. "For you, my lady."

"My hero," she mocked impishly, her hand fluttering to her chest before tucking in to breakfast, breaking off bits of banana-walnut muffins to dip into the spread. "Suppose I'm becoming quite predictable and boring after all this time."

Will couldn't resist teasing back. "Maybe a bit. Lucky for you, though, you bake wonderful sweets and have gorgeous legs, so I'll put up with you."

"I love you too." Hearing her say the words so simply hit him nearly as hard as the night before and it must have shown on his face. Elizabeth smiled, sticking her finger right in the jar before smearing a dollop of peanut butter on his nose, nipping it off in a flash and leaning her forehead against his. "Get used to it. You don't know how many times I had to stop myself from blurting it out all these months."

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, shaking his head in amazement that they had made it to this moment. "Why didn't you then?"

The playful mood dissipated, Elizabeth lowering her eyes until Will tipped her chin up to bring her back to him. "Because," she said slowly, "I just wasn't sure…I didn't think there was any way you could feel about me the way I felt for you."

 _Has she secretly been concussing herself since we met?_ Will thought, aghast. _Do I need to have Corrine take her to the hospital for testing?_

"How could you ever think that?" Will asked her. "Did I say or do something that ever made you feel…?"

She shrugged, staring down at the bedspread, her fingers toying with the loose threads. After a long moment, she finally whispered, "You never did anything wrong. It was just every time you smiled at me or gave me someone to lean on or made me feel beautiful because I was carrying your baby, I-I always had in the back of my mind that you probably did all that with someone else; that I wasn't the first totally helpless pregnant woman you had to take care of because she couldn't do it on her own."

Will blinked, unconsciously pulling back to stare at Elizabeth – eternally perfect in his mind – baffled that she could even come within a football pitch's length of comparing herself to Rebecca. His common sense briefly shocked into a stupor, he blurted out he first thing that came to his mind:

"You're an absolute nutter."

Elizabeth's head shot up, her mouth open and her eyes starting to come back alive with fire. "Excuse me?!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sure there's a more tactful way to say that to a woman expecting but it's the truth. As Jack would say, you're over the edge and off the map."

"I wasn't saying it to be funny, Will!" To prove it, she reared back and began slapping him with a pillow, making him have to battle to get their food tray to the safety of the floor before he stilled her.

"You really enjoy beating me, don't you? Is that a bad sign for our relationship?"

"There won't be one if you don't start taking me and my feelings seriously."

"Elizabeth, the only thing I've been since the moment I saw you is serious." Tugging her until she sat perched on his lap, acquiescing but still glaring down at him, he brushed a tentative kiss to her collarbone. "Seriously smitten."

Even though she allowed it, she also wasn't in the mood to let him off the hook. "Forgive me for having trouble believing the words of a man who went to such lengths to avoid romance, except with one other woman before me."

It was a fair, clean hit; Will knew he deserved worse for how little thought he gave to the few women who had shared his bed until he had met Elizabeth. And with the surprise of her initial statement fading, he could logically see how Elizabeth had reached the conclusions she had, preposterous as they were. He knew with certainty that she was the only woman he had ever loved, romantically, and he couldn't imagine a time when there would be someone to take her place.

He just had to convince her of that.

 _No easy feat, given her maddening tendency towards stubbornness._

"It wasn't romance with Rebecca," he explained softly into her skin. "We were idiotic teenagers from broken homes that fancied raging hormonal lust to be the same as love. Deep down, I knew there was something missing in how I felt but I never believed I'd be able to find it with someone, especially after Lucy came. I mean, you're only allowed so much happiness in this life. I had mine in my daughter, so I learned to be content with meaningless sex with tourists every once in a great while." Carefully, he looked up to find her studying him, more curious than angry so he forged ahead. "And then you walked into the club – wearing that lacy blue dress I envied because it got to touch you, laughing bright enough to power the world for a few hundred years – and I had to be near you; had to hear what that laugh sounded like in my ear; had to know what it felt like to have you smile just for me. When I finally mustered up the courage to speak to you…Elizabeth, I was in love before you even knew my name. I was in love before I knew about our baby and I was in love before I saw how you are with Lucy. I just loved you even more after both things happened."

Her lips curled into a small half smile and she sighed, "Why do you have to be so bloody perfect? You called me insane and I still find you charming."

He blushed under her praise. "I'm far from perfect, I promise."

"Not as far as you think," she immediately challenged, her fingers coming up to run through his disheveled hair. "There's a lot of men – like the one next door, for example – that would have tried to disappear into the night at the prospect of unplanned fatherhood, yet you turned your world topsy-turvy to embrace it." She leaned down to kiss him, her own hair creating a curtain around them. "Twice."

Before either had a chance to deepen it, Will leaned away, wanting to make sure Elizabeth understood something perfectly clear. "I needed Rebecca here with me to make sure Lucy was safe. I need you here because…because once I saw you again and once I found out about the baby, I wasn't capable of living without you. Either of you."

Elizabeth's brown eyes blazed until they were almost black. In a rush, she mashed her mouth back to his, her hands trying to yank his shirt off while her hips slid deliciously closer to his. Her fierceness caught him off-guard and unbidden, Bria's words from earlier came back to him:

" _Wanted to shag your bits off…Don't let her overdue it…Randy…"_

"W-Wait," Will mumbled into her mouth, her hands gliding over his bare chest in pure, delicious torture. "We don't…If you're feeling tired or not up for-Whoa!"

With a force he hadn't imagined possible, Elizabeth had him flat on his back, wrists pinned above his head, fixing him with a look that scorched him and rendered him speechless. "I forgave you for being a sneak, then again for calling me a nutter," she whispered, her voice charged like livewire and her curves melding to every inch of him, "but for trying to deny me your body, Mr. Turner, you need to be punished."

 _Okay_ , Will thought nonsensically as her lips began their painstaking assault. _She and I have very different ideas about discipline. Good to know…_

Hours later, Elizabeth was nibbling on a cold muffin, her still-clothed back pressed to Will's chest while he struggled to catch his breath. Finally, he managed to huff out, "Never, ever let me find out the name of the bloke who taught you that last thing. Deal?"

He felt her giggle and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Jealous? Would you cross an ocean to defend my honor again?"

"No, there's just at least a sixty-eight percent chance that I'd end up mailing him the deed to this house."

Her full-throated laughter turned into a small, happy gasp and she tilted her head back to look at him. "We're definitely having a boy. Sex talk gets him all spastic and jittery."

"Yeah?" Gently, he placed his hand on her stomach next to hers, straining to feel the baby's movements, his face falling slightly when he couldn't. "Nothing for me yet."

"Soon. All the books say it should happen in the next few weeks. Speaking of this little man, though, we need to start being proactive about getting ready for him."

"How so?" Will asked, his brain still awash with endorphins that were making it hard to focus.

"We need to start making a birth plan," Elizabeth explained around a mouthful of food. "We should go through any old things of Lucy's to see what's still useable. I need to figure out when I want to take my leave because I don't want to think of what Anamaria's face would look like if my water broke on her kitchen floor. We have to have-"

"A nursery."

"What?"

Tact wasn't his strong suit so far in their budding relationship, but how could he be expected to control his thoughts when he was still recovering from Elizabeth's "punishment"? Now that it was out there in the world, the idea began to take on a life of its own and Will continued, "He's going to need a place to sleep, right?"

"Yes…"

"So, there's three rooms in this house." Will kept his eyes resolutely on the ceiling, scared to look at her, and stroked her belly for a bit of nerve. "If…If you and I shared, he could have one all to himself."

He felt her still against him for a moment before tucking her head under his chin, her first question surprising him. "How would we explain it to Lucy?"

"Um, I guess tell her the truth. She's old enough to know that when two people are in love, they share a room. Honestly, I don't think she'll be confused so much as angry that I'll get to spend more time with you than she does."

Elizabeth smiled into his chest. "And you think we're ready to take that step?"

He supposed he could try to joke and play it casual, but he sensed how important this moment was. "Yeah, I know we are."

"Well, I suppose we'd be considered bad parents if we stuck this poor boy in a closet." Her fingers wandered up and down his chest again distractedly. He grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips.

"You're saying yes, right?"

"Maybe." She rolled onto her back, arching it by stretching and smiling alluringly at him. "What do I get if I do?"

"I'm not a bloody machine, you know," he groaned, his body starting to respond despite his exhaustion. "You can't just…" Teasing, she bent her right leg, exposing more of the creamy flesh of her thigh, raising her eyebrow in surprise when instead of for her, he reached over the side of the bed, swearing under his breath, "Fuck me."

"What are you doing?"

He gobbled a whole sandwich in three bites, chasing it down with a bottle of water. "Sustenance. Apparently, I'll need a lot of it to fulfill my fatherly duties." Her coquettish grin dissolved into a shriek of his name when he leapt onto the bed, covering her body with his, raining kisses down it with unabashed glee, scarcely believing that it was all real and not some horrible dream that he'd eventually have to wake from.

Yet, it was real, proven over and over as the weekend progressed with the effort to move Will's things into Elizabeth's room, in between meals and bouts of lovemaking so frequent that even Jack would have blushed. No surface of the house – save for Lucy's room – was safe from their coupling. It didn't matter what Elizabeth did: whipping them up a quick dinner, clearing (miniscule) space in her closet, or even teasing him about how much time he took up the loo, the urge to make love to her was overpowering and he was done fighting it.

For the first time in his young life, he was in love. Every moment he got to hold Elizabeth, even the quiet ones where they simply whispered more stories and secrets to each other, was a treasure that he hoarded greedily. He belonged not only with her, he had realized, but **to** her. Lying with her as she slept at night, Will was struck by how wholly terrifying yet still somehow comforting it was to need someone this way, something Will hadn't expected. His only role models for relationships were Jack and Anamaria; more often than not, when they weren't pushing the boundaries of public decency together, the pair of them battled like petulant, medieval royalty sparring over land rights. While he knew they'd kill for one another, sometimes they couldn't even live in the same house for days on end, a feat he couldn't imagine with Elizabeth. Three nights sharing a bed and he dreaded the thought of being at work away from her.

He was totally under her thumb. Jack would undoubtedly take the mickey out of him, but Will couldn't care less. No bullet or knife could pierce the bubble of joy growing steadily inside him.

Walking into the shipyard that Monday morning, he smiled at everyone he saw, clapping backs and cheerfully checking on the progress of the various ships in their care. By their telltale smirks and jokes they told when they thought he was far enough away, they all knew how he'd spent his weekend. Again, though, it fell into the category of things that didn't bother Will anymore, a list that was getting longer by the hour.

The grin was still on his face in the late afternoon when Hank poked his head into Will's office. "Got a sec, Turner?"

"Sure," he replied, not looking up from a set of blueprint specs. "What's up?"

"I'll be gone for a couple of weeks on business in Asia. Are you and Nathaniel going to be able to keep things here afloat?" He grimaced as soon as he spoke. "Dear God, that was an awful pun."

"If there's such a thing as a good pun, I've yet to hear it. Don't worry, we'll be fine here. Everything's ahead of schedule except for the frigate."

"What's holding her up?"

"There's some rigging work that's tricky. The guys are having trouble with it. If it's still an issue on Thursday, I'll go up there and finish it myself."

"A hands-on supervisor. Definitely not my forte."

Will smiled wider, adjusting the last line on the blueprint. "Good thing, otherwise what would you pay me for?"

Hank finally stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. "Well, if there's such a thing as a perfect segue, that was it." He placed a thin envelope on the table in front of Will. "Phillippe and his staff at the museum were very impressed with how the transport ship came out. I thought it warranted your first commission."

Will took the envelope with great caution. After he was hired, it was agreed that Will would work for a base salary and receive additional compensation in cash based on both the overall final product of the ships completed and how fast they were finished. Though Will's expertise lay in the repair and restoration work, he was relying on Hank to sell their services as it was a world he was still clueless about. Whatever money Hank made for himself was his own business that Will wanted no knowledge of, but he also secretly feared that Hank wouldn't get top value for the ships because – due to his enormous personal wealth – Hank DeMarcus might have forgotten the value of money to those under him.

Will prayed he hadn't. He remembered how much it had cost to take care of an infant and soon he'd have not only an infant, but a six-year-old that he wanted to send to a better school.

If the envelope was any judge, though, Hank's memory was short.

The short time she'd had him for, Will's mother had raised him to be respectful to his superiors, even in the face of his own disappointment. "Thank you," he told Hank sincerely, holding the envelope up in triumph.

Hank squinted and pointed at Will's cheek. "That from the dust-up at the Peddler?"

Will touched the healing cut self-consciously. "Yeah. I, uh, went a little out of my head I suppose."

"Jack told me. Nothing wrong with showing shitheads to speak of your woman with respect, especially when that woman has Mulroney blood. Let's not let it happen all the time though, yeah?"

"Of course."

"And let Elizabeth know I should have some more treasures for her when I get back. We'll all do dinner at my place one night. Or on the yacht if it's clear out." Hank made for the door, but shut it instead of walking out, sidling back over with a smirk and a nod to the envelope. "Don't you want a peek?"

With forced cheer, he opened the envelope. To his surprise, he found a single check instead of currency. When he flipped it over to see the amount, the number of zeros on it smacked him harder than Jack ever had.

 _What in the fuck?!_ Will thought, struggling to keep himself upright as he tried to calculate if he had ever earned in his entire life what he was holding in his hand. _How is this…? There's no way I…_

"You do excellent work, so I figured a little extra was warranted," Hank said in the face of his continued silence, a sly grin playing on his features. "I know we talked about cash only but if you tried to take that into a bank in bills you'd be getting some very funny looks. Plus, I'm sure you'd appreciate being able to take your lady out to a place nice enough where you won't run into shitholes looking to demean her."

Without warning, anger erupted inside of Will. His phony smile melting into a narrow line, he thrust the check back at Hank. "I can't accept," he said as evenly as he could. "I didn't earn this."

"Yes you did," Hank countered, nonplussed.

"No, I didn't and I'm not taking it."

Instead of frowning at Will's insolence, Hank chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement. "Know we haven't known that long, young man, but you'll find that people don't win arguments with me about money." At his nonchalance, Will's temper snapped and he made to rip up the check right on the spot. Hank strode forward quickly and clasped Will's hands tightly in his own. "I'll find out your bank account and deposit the money in straight away. You're just wasting a tree to insult me if you do that."

"I'm not a fucking charity case, Hank," Will hissed.

"No, you're a good employee who got an upgrade for a boss because he's actually willing to pay you what you're worth." The older man tilted his head in question. "Do you truly not understand that you deserve this?"

Hank's analysis was too close to comfort. It immediately made Will defensive, which made him lash out. "Do you really think I deserve this?" Will spat out. "Or are you just trying to find a way to take care of the daughter of the woman you never had the stones to tell how you really felt?"

If Hank's analysis was on target, Will's own had launched a projectile missile dead center through it. Though Elizabeth may have been overcome the other night by the photos, it had been easy for Will to read the wistfulness when Hank spoke of Elizabeth's late mother. After all, if anyone was an expert in pining after an unattainable woman, it was Will Turner and he chose to use that knowledge for spite. For the first time in their relationship, there was true anger burning behind Hank's eyes and it made Will see how the man had been so successful in business. When the time came for it, he could be utterly ruthless, without fear of nagging things like empathy. It was a truly terrifying sight and if Will hadn't been frozen to the spot, he would have tried to inch away, but he couldn't. An agonizing moment passed before Hank inhaled slowly and regained control of himself.

"You like baseball, Will?" Hank asked with dripping kindness.

"W-What?"

"Baseball. Elizabeth's grandfather was obsessed with it. We went to dozens of games together because he loved the cathedral of Yankee Stadium and the sport, but I never got a taste for it. You see, it's too slow for me. Batter gets three strikes before he's out. Team gets three outs to score. Utter insanity. It can take hours that I just never have. Time is money, after all. That's why with me, people only get two strikes, and you, young man, just got your first one."

 _Shit_ , Will thought, his stomach dropping to his knees as every nebulous plan he had made for the future started evaporating before his eyes. _What the hell am I going to tell Elizabeth?_

At Will's staggered silence, Hank continued coolly, "Now, if you don't wish to discuss personal matters at work, I can respect that so long as you extend me the same courtesy. Agreed?"

"Yessir," Will mumbled, somehow keeping eye contact.

"Good." Hank used both hands to smooth out the wrinkles on Will's shoulders, his smile returning. "Now that that's out of the way, you're going to accept your most-deserved commission and take care of some unpleasant financial matters. I imagine you have some debts to settle before perhaps investing in a newer car or even a bigger house, right?"

Will heard loud and clear the tacit insinuation that he had best provide for Elizabeth or that would be his final strike. "Yessir," he repeated, lacing his words with as much contempt as he dared.

"Alright then. I'll see you when I get back." He clapped Will's shoulders with a force that neared the line of pain, but his eyes were solemn when he continued, "You're a good kid, Will. You caught some bad breaks and didn't let them break you, which makes you a rarity among your generation. Take my advice: the bigger your world gets, the more you try to hold it up all on your own, the harder it's going to come crashing down on top of you." With that, he was gone, leaving Will alone in the office, staring a hole through that blasted check, cursing his reckless mouth. Hours went by as he brooded in silence, tracing through the fight with Hank and its origins deep within his psyche until he heard the last of the workers start to leave the work floor as the cleaning crew came in. Quickly, he gathered his things and raced to the car, wincing when he saw the number of missed calls from Elizabeth and Lucy, via Bria's phone.

He made the drive home in half the time, the lights from Jack's house and the dock behind it the only source of brightness on the cloudy night. As he stepped closer to his porch, he heard raucous laughter from the dock and gritted his teeth at the sound of Bootstrap's deep chuckle.

 _Fucking bastard needs to lose his way from this place and soon_ , Will thought, pressing his anger down deeper. It was his default reaction to the man, amplified further by fresh conflict with Hank. _Why can't he just leave me to my life in peace?_

"Not like he gives two shits about me anyway," Will muttered quietly, taking the time to compose himself as he gingerly opened the door and flicked the light on, squinting in surprise when he saw a covered plate waiting for him on the table. Stepping in further, his surprise increased tenfold (along with his guilt) when he found Elizabeth curled up on the couch, a blanket haphazardly tangled around her knees. Sinking slowly to his own, he brushed back the hair from her face, watching the shadows from the moonlight play across it.

He could happily spend all night looking at her. Beauty was hard work for some women, but not for Elizabeth. It came to her naturally, the outside magnified by the sweetness and strength he was privileged to know was inside her, along with something else.

Or rather, someone else. Carefully, he trailed his hand to her belly, hoping again that his son inherited all of Elizabeth's purity and none of his own damage.

 _I'm absolutely scared out of my mind that I'm going to find a way to hurt you_ , Will told the baby in his mind. _If and when that happens, though, I'm not going to make a run for it. I'm going to do everything I can to fix it. I'm going to always be there for you, even if you don't want me to be; even if you can't stand me, I won't let you go, okay?_

"You can talk to him, you know." Will jumped slightly at Elizabeth's voice, glancing sideways to find her smiling drowsily at him. "He's an excellent listener."

"Is he now?" He softly pecked her lips. "What if I'm asking his advice on buying you a present and I want it to be a surprise?"

"Then the present should be earmuffs."

Will laughed and settled more on the floor, his tension ebbing away the bigger her smile got. "Do you really talk to him?"

"Uh-huh. We test out new recipes together. He's a big fan of anything with peanut butter."

"Go figure."

Elizabeth chuckled before her smile turned softer. "He's very fond of you, too. Just now, as soon as you came in, he started wiggling around in there." Their hands joined together on her belly. "I think he missed you today. We were chatting earlier and he said we should try to wait up for you."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just…Something happened at work that threw me a bit and I needed to reset before I came home."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Will's instinct was to insist he could handle it on his own but Hank's advice about holding up his bigger world all by himself had struck a persistent chord he couldn't ignore. Elizabeth was his world now, along with Lucy and the baby; as much as he wanted to show them his strength and bear his burdens alone, he'd be useless to all of them if he let his problems become insurmountable in his own mind. Strange as it was to accept, in order to take care of Elizabeth, he had to let her take care of him sometimes.

No matter how much he hated weakening himself before her eyes.

After a long pause, Will finally said, "Hank gave me my first commission today. We got into a row about it and I let things get a bit…personal."

"He didn't pay you enough?" Elizabeth ventured.

"No, just the opposite."

She frowned, slowly putting the pieces together. "You think he paid you too much? Because…Because of us, not your work?"

Will nodded, bracing himself as old memories he wished he could bludgeon away crept to the surface. "When my mum and I were on our own, after my bastard father abandoned us, things could get really bad sometimes," he whispered, unable to look at her. "If there wasn't enough work and it came down to rent or food…" Will swallowed deeply. "She'd go days without eating anything more than three crackers, just so I wouldn't go to bed hungry. Everyone we knew struggled to get by and there was only so much to go around at the soup kitchens or the churches. We'd go for help and some of the people working there would look at my mum like…like…" Will didn't realize how tightly he was gripping Elizabeth's hand until she laid her other on top of his and he eased it, trying to steady himself. "They made us feel worthless. Not all of them, mind you, but enough that taking charity left an awful taste in my mouth. When Hank handed me the check, I just…"

He felt her fingers run through his hair, stroking it lovingly and he leaned into them, amazed it had only taken a few days for something to become such a comfort to him. With great care and hesitation, he pressed his cheek to her stomach, giving in and letting her take the reins; putting himself in her hands in a way he hadn't with anyone since the woman he'd just told Elizabeth about.

As if she sensed what he had grasped, Elizabeth let the silence wrap around them like a warm quilt, their breathing and the gentle hum of the ocean outside filling the room. Her eyes never left his, never blinked or wavered in the face of his pain. "Whatever Hank meant with the money, it wasn't charity and you know it," she said at last. "He brings you these ships that are falling apart, beyond hope of saving yet you do. In your hands, with your ideas and your beliefs motivating all those workers, you find a way. Just like with everything else in your life." Her thumb toyed with the small dimple on his chin. "And even if this job with Hanks goes to hell, it'll be alright. You'll find something else while I whip up enough sweets to make everyone on this bloody island gain a hundred pounds." Will snorted a little and Elizabeth shifted up, taking his face in her hands. "Look, it's been a wonderful few days with just the two of us, but the truth is life's going to happen in the big, bad world. Nothing in it scares me, though, because we'll figure it out together, yeah?"

It wouldn't be that simple. Will knew more of that big, bad world than Elizabeth did and there were problems in it the idealism of love wouldn't overcome. Still, if she was willing to stand by him through whatever came at them next, he'd find a way to protect her and his children, no matter the cost.

"You're amazing." Nuzzling his lips into her palm, he shook his head in wonder. "Absolutely amazing."

Her eyes lit up brighter than Christmas morning and she reached behind her, grabbing her phone. "Nope, but I can show you amazing." She thumbed quickly through the screen, searching. "Bria sent me pictures. Apparently, they have these shops over there where they make kids up into princesses or pirates." Finding the shot, she turned the phone to him. "Guess which one your daughter chose."

"Oh my God, look at her" Will whispered merrily, his heart aching anew at the sight of Lucy in full pirate regalia: eye patch, tricorn hat, puffy shirt, even a toy sword that she held up with an adorable (though Lucy was probably going for fierce) scowl on her face. His throat tightened unexpectedly. It was such an odd contrast; cherishing this time with Elizabeth because Lucy was away yet wanting so much to hug his little girl all the same. Unable to give voice to what he was feeling, he simply said, "It's too quiet without her here."

"I know," Elizabeth sighed in agreement, browsing with him through more pictures of a beaming Lucy posing with characters or on rides with a wearied Bria. "No more big girl trips for her."

"She already told me she wants to go back after the baby comes, all four of us."

"That sounds like fun." He was secretly thrilled that she was agreeing to plans in the future, but frowned when she continued under her breath, "Hopefully I won't be such a whale then."

"Beg pardon?" When her face reddened and she kept her gaze on the phone, Will knew she hadn't meant for him to hear that bit. Refocusing his attention on her, he told her, "You know you're gorgeous, right?" Her silence was the answer, leaving Will stunned while thinking over their days together. For sure, their lovemaking had been mind-blowing and often happened whenever the mood seemed to strike Elizabeth, but thinking back on it, Will realized that other than the first night – running off sheer emotion and in near total darkness – Elizabeth had always kept herself covered.

 _Stupid prick_ , he chastised himself. _So focused on your own end that you don't even notice what she needs. Time to remedy that._

Carefully setting the phone down, Will used both hands to ease Elizabeth's nightshirt over her body, slowing but never stopping as she tensed beneath his touch, until her stomach was fully bare. Her bump was still diminutive to his eyes, only slightly rounder than she was at her last exam, although her belly button was starting to pop out.

"There were times when I'd catch you out on the porch, torturing me with your yoga poses, that I'd have to run to the car to stop myself from taking you right then and there," he told her truthfully, tracing feather-light patterns across her pale skin stretched tight over their baby. "And then there were others when I had to run right into the shed."

"The shed? For what?"

He quirked an eyebrow up at her,amused. "To indulge myself in the idea of taking you right then and there." Elizabeth's breath hitched, her eyes darkening. "There's never been a woman who makes me… **feel** as much as you do. It's the obvious things, like your lips." He caressed them with his own, pulling away when she tried to deepen it. "And how sweet your skin tastes." He grazed the length of her neck, feeling her pulse start to hum, and he had to slow down to stop from losing himself in her. "And how nothing has ever hurt better than when you had to bite down on my shoulder to hold back a scream. I might have to get a tattoo of that mark."

"Will," Elizabeth moaned, locking her hands behind his neck to draw him closer, her hushed groan making his groin ache with need. He responded by tugging her onto his lap and gently laying her flat on her back against the floor, the sight of her nearly breathless with anticipation exciting him more than any fantasy or filthy magazine could. Still, before this went further he had to make her understand.

He had to take care of her the way she had taken care of him.

"And with everything your body is capable of doing to me, nothing makes me want you more than seeing this." He kissed a path down her belly, covering every inch of the swell until he felt her quiver beneath him. "This shows everyone in the world that you're carrying my child, my joy, within you; that I'm lucky enough to be yours."

"That we're each other's," Elizabeth breathily corrected him, impatience winning out as she tried to rip his shirt from him. He helped her along, then immediately took hers off as well, fusing his lips to hers afterwards as they spent the rest of the night echoing their newfound commitment. When they were sated and sweaty underneath the covers of the bed later on, Will's last thought as he drifted to sleep was that there was only one thing missing from his life.

He'd just have to wait a few more days to have her back, too.

Yet when those few days were gone and they waited at the airport for Lucy and Bria's plane to touch done, Will couldn't stop his doubts from creeping back. Lucy was inquisitive by nature; there were questions she was bound to ask that he didn't have answers for at the moment. As right as things felt with Elizabeth, Will couldn't help but to be cautious. It was the first serious relationship he had ever been in and he was determined not to muck it up by racing ahead towards the finish line.

No matter how much he was ready for the starting gun to go off.

"I should warn you," Elizabeth began, leaning more into his side, "there's probably going to be a lot of souvenirs. Bria with a credit card is a force of nature."

"Suppose there's no harm in letting her get spoiled once in a while," Will mused, checking the clock again. Their flight had been due ten minutes ago, but he forced himself to keep his anxiousness at bay for Elizabeth's sake.

"You might regret that come Christmas time." She peppered kisses over his jaw until he met her mouth fully, needing the distraction. "I picked up some of Bria's bad habits."

He leered and let his hand drift dangerously close to her rear, tugging her closer. "Well, I might to have to break you of them."

"Properly then?"

"Eagerly, if you'd like." Passion flamed anew and he traced his tongue with hers, not caring that they were in the middle of a crowded arrival gate, his body beginning to cry out for her. He was only seconds away from considering finding some kind of empty closet when she pulled back with a groan.

"Your son's going to be quite cross when he's born and can't use my bladder as his favorite play toy anymore. I'll be back." After another long kiss, she scurried away to find the nearest restroom and he amused himself by admiring the curves on display in her short sundress, wondering fleetingly how little he could convince her to wear as the summer weather progressed into oppressive.

"DADDY!"

All salacious thoughts left him at the sound of that sweet cry. Whipping around, he found Lucy running for him full-throttle, her sneakers squeaking against the tile. Unable to wait, he met her halfway, catching her as she leapt into his arms.

"Hey sweetheart," he said into her ear, trying desperately to keep the happy tears out of his voice. Holding her close, her heavy backpack weighing them both down, he grinned when she nearly choked him with her grip around his neck, pleased she had missed him as much as he had missed her. Needing to see her face, he leaned back, nuzzling her perfect little nose with his. "Long time no see, m'lady."

She giggled, setting her small hands on his cheeks. "I'm not a lady, I'm a pirate!" Pulling back further, he saw she was still dressed the part, only with a bandana replacing the hat to hold back her loose blonde hair.

"That you are." Will went in for another squeeze, feeling like he was breathing properly for the first time in a week. Being Lucy's father had been his defining trait for years now, so much that to shed it for even a few days had made him feel like a new man entirely. Now he'd have to find a way to merge the two as seamlessly as possible and create someone up to the task; someone able to balance his needs of being in a relationship with Elizabeth with caring for Lucy.

It certainly wasn't going to be an easy transition. He was sure he'd find himself pulled in different directions, never quite being able to live up to everyone's expectations, but for his ladies he'd find a way to make it work.

 _No, my two pirates_ , he corrected himself, kneeling to the ground and setting Lucy to her feet to get a proper look at her, struck by something almost immediately.

"This isn't the same one you had on in the picture, is it?"

"Nope!" Lucy said, twirling around so her red sash and vest billowed. "Bria bought me lots of them! And toys and stuffed animals and candy! And mouse ears! I have a whole bagful now! Anytime I asked for something, she said yes!"

"Of course she did," Will sighed, defeated.

"Bet your arse I did," the woman in question from behind them. Will turned to find her with the suitcases beside her, wearing tan linen pants and a silk blouse that probably cost as much as the check that Will had finally (somehow) deposited in his account. Bria pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, revealing eyes bordering on exhaustion. "I couldn't drink so I had to satisfy other addictions."

He eyed the luggage rack speculatively. "Doesn't look like you did too much damage."

"Oh, they're all being shipped to your wee little birdhouse," she said smugly. "Doubt you'll even have room for all of it."

Will rolled his eyes and hugged his daughter again, still needing the contact. "Bria took good care of you?"

"Uh-huh. Guess what we did on the last day?"

"What?"

"We rode a roller coaster in the dark!" Lucy pulled back, eyes still alive with wonder and she took Will's hand, spinning around him in a circle to burn off some of the excitement (and candy) that Bria's trip had filled her with. "Bria screamed the whole time, it was so funny. One time she even…" Lucy trailed off before letting her father go and gasping happily. With a start, she was off across the airport, leaving Will to watch in awe as Elizabeth met her with an equally happy shout and a bone-crushing hug of her own.

"She looks happy," Will heard Bria say as the continued to look on the reunion, Elizabeth admiring Lucy's outfit with great enthusiasm.

Will rose from the floor, nodding. "I'm doing my best, I promise. I won't let…" He turned to Bria, eyebrows raised when he found her sipping out of an enormous bottle of pricy vodka that she had pulled from one of the suitcases.

"What?" She shrugged at his look, taking another swig. "Your child is now back in your custody, it's allowed. I just hope the good Lord is kind to the person who invented the duty-free store."

Will could only chuckle to himself. She'd never be his cup of tea, but she was Elizabeth's family, which meant that she was Will's now, too. He supposed they'd just have to accept it at this point.

Elizabeth and Lucy strolled back to them, hand in hand, Elizabeth immediately pulling Bria into a tight hug. "She said you cried on Space Mountain."

Bria scowled at Lucy. "She lies, which is almost as bad as having horrible taste in clothing. She's been wearing those stupid outfits everywhere."

"Because they make me feel like a real pirate. And look!" Lucy wrestled something out of her bag to show them. "She got one for Felix too!"

"Aww…" Elizabeth said, stroking Lucy's hair. "That was so sweet!"

"No, it was just the only way to stop her whining about how much she missed the two of you," Bria corrected her. Stowing her drink, she studied Elizabeth appraisingly, turning her at different angles to check her over. "You don't look too terrible. That pudge though…"

"Is the most beautiful thing in the whole world," Elizabeth finished, sharing a secret smile with Will, patting her belly and smiling wider when Lucy cuddled into her side.

"Yeah, this is going to get pathetic really quickly," Bria muttered under her breath. Hugging Elizabeth again, she said, "I'm off. My layover's only an hour and there's a first-class longue calling my name. I'll ring you when I land."

"It won't even be sunrise here."

"Like that's ever stopped us." She nodded once at Will, fixing him with a stern stare, holding out her hand. "Mr. Turner."

"Ms. McKendrick," he replied, shaking her hand in farewell.

"She best be smiling like this when I come for the baby shower."

"Oh, I don't even know if I want-" Elizabeth tried to say before Bria silenced her with a finger.

"Anamaria and I are already in prep mode. We're sending the invitations next week. Don't come if you want, we'll just send you pictures of all the baby swag you could have gotten. Ta." Making to leave, Will saw her glance down at Lucy to find the girl holding her arms up, eyes pleading. With both he and Elizabeth looking on expectantly, Bria finally huffed loudly and gestured for Lucy to come over. "Fine, if you must. Just be quick about it." Giggling, Lucy wrapped her arms around Bria's slim waist, pressing her face into the woman's stomach, Bria doing everything she could not to touch the child.

"I had the best time ever with you, Bria, thank you," Lucy told her sincerely.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

"Are you going to miss me as much as I'll miss you?"

"Can't say that I will, no."

"You're so funny!" Lucy laughed into her blouse. "Elizabeth is going to help me send you lots of pictures for your house."

"Wonderful, I love getting crap in my mail slot."

"I love you."

Will would've traded his kidney for a camera at that moment. All at once, Bria's face softened to a degree he hadn't thought capable from her, a tiny smile slowly playing at the corner of her lips as a hint of moisture glazed over her eyes. Awkwardly, she set her hands to Lucy's head, patting it gently for a moment until she caught sight of Elizabeth's knowing grin. All at once, she schooled her features and pried Lucy off of her, surreptitiously wiping any trace of tears away.

"A-Alright then, that's enough," she said roughly, quickly fixing her sunglasses on. "Have a bit of dignity, why don't you?" She nodded goodbye to the adults. "Teach her to behave like a proper human next time I see her, aye?"

"We will, luv," Elizabeth sang, waving goodbye with Lucy as Bria sped away from them through the concourse. Taking one of Lucy's hands as Will took the other, they led her back out into the Caribbean. "You are absolutely exceptional, Lucy Turner."

"I know," she nodded in agreement, making them laugh while they waited for a cab before launching into a full recap of her trip on the ride home.

It was nearing dinnertime when she finally wound down and since it was her first night home, they decided to eat her favorites on the porch. As Lucy was helping Elizabeth prepare a salad, (finally out of her costume and in her pajamas) Elizabeth shot him a look over the table, asking him silently to begin what had been a well-planned discussion between the two of them. Taking a deep breath, Will plated the last of the fish and said, "Say, Lucy-Goosey? Can we talk about something?"

"What?"

"So, while you were gone, Elizabeth and I…" He paused suddenly. Even though he had the words down to the letter at this point, it was harder to spit them out with his daughter's curious eyes boring into him. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "We, uh, got to talking about things and we…well, we decided that we…that is, it would maybe be a good idea if she and I c-could sleep in the same room." His blood pressure skyrocketed when there was no response from Lucy and he saw Elizabeth begin biting her bottom lip. When he could take the silence no more, he asked, "W-What do you think about that?"

Swiveling her head back and forth between the pair of them, Lucy finally turned back to her near panic-stricken father. "You're going to put all your clothes in her room now? And get dressed in there?"

"Yes," he said slowly, trying to see where she was going with this.

"You can still come in and visit though," Elizabeth offered, equally uncertain about the direction of the conversation. "We'll still have our girl time together, I promise."

"Are you going to get another bed in the room?"

Will swallowed, bracing himself by gripping the back of one of the chairs. "No, actually, we think it might be nice to just have the one bed and…and share."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

After another long moment of watching mysterious wheels turn in Lucy's head, she finally rendered her judgement with a prompt nod and stole a piece of tomato from the bowl to munch on. "Good. I was starting to get worried."

His relief at her acceptance was so great that he almost missed that remark. "Worried? About what?"

"You two," Lucy said. "You're in love, like Captain Jack and Auntie Ana, but you didn't sleep in the same bed like them. I thought something was wrong." Going to pour her juice, she left both adults absolutely gobsmacked.

 _Where on Earth…? How did she come up with that?!_

Elizabeth was the first to recover. "Lucy, who told you we were in love? Was it Bria last week?"

"Or was it Captain Jack drinking some of his grown-up juice and saying silly things to you again?" Will asked, ready to rush next door to beat his friend to a pulp.

"No one had to tell me," Lucy denied, concentrating on not spilling. "I knew all by myself."

"How?"

"Because you were always looking at Elizabeth when she wasn't paying attention and she'd do the same with you," Lucy began to explain to them as if they were the children in this conversation. "And you'd both smile bigger and laugh more when you were together. Plus, you made her room all pretty before she came here. Elizabeth makes sure there's lunch for you for work. You shop together, you drive places together, you play with me together, and you're having a baby together!" Lucy looked to them, eyes crinkled. "Wait, didn't you know you were in love this whole time?" When neither could answer her, she shook her head in bewilderment and carried her dinner and Felix outside. "Grown-ups are so silly," Will heard her opine to the bear.

Will stared at her on the porch in shock, finally looking over to see Elizabeth biting back a smile this time. "The five-year-old had it figured out before we did," he told her, dumbfounded.

"Oh, let it go," Elizabeth said, grabbing the salad and plates, following Lucy. "Besides, she's almost six."

"Going on forty-five," he said to himself, taking the main course out to join his girls.

After a happy dinner together, they all sat on the steps, sharing a bit of mango ice cream that Elizabeth had made when Lucy climbed on Will's lap and pointed to the orange sky with her dripping cone. "Let's tell a cloud story, Daddy. Please? Before they all go to bed."

"Okay then." Finding the perfect one, he pointed it out and began, "That one right there, when it's floating over places that are cold, do you know what it is?"

"What?"

"It's a factory that makes snowmen."

"And women," Lucy corrected at once, pointing her finger sternly at him.

"And women, of course. So, before the snow falls on the ground, there are angels up there that design what the **snowpeople** are going to look like and then they make the snow fall just right so that real people can make them into what they're supposed to be."

"But sometimes the angels play tricks on each other," Lucy continued conspiratorially. "One time, one angel named Calvin made a snowperson, then another angel named Tobias snuck over and instead of sending the snow to Norway, he sent it to Zimbabwe and then they got a huge blizzard!"

"They did not!" Will cried in mock outrage.

"They did! Ninety-thousand inches of snow! After that, Calvin and Tobias got into a such big fight in the factory, they broke it and all the snow turned into mushy green peas." When she paused, Will made to continue the story but she quickly put her hand up to stop him. "No, Daddy, it's Elizabeth's turn," she said before turning to look at the woman in question eagerly.

He couldn't hide his surprise. Neither could Elizabeth. Cloud stories had always been something he had shared with just Lucy, since the time she could comprehend stories. They had spent many a happy hour gazing up at the sky, making each other laugh and giving Will many of his most precious memories with his daughter. There was a sense of jealously that she wished to share this with someone else, yet when that someone was Elizabeth, it floated away in an instant to be replaced with a feeling of peace. Lucy was letting her into their world fully and completely.

It was right. Hell, it was help **making** their world complete.

When Elizabeth still didn't reply, he nodded slowly to her. "Yeah, how silly of me. It's your turn."

"Um, okay. Well, then, uh…

"Calvin and Tobias," Lucy offered.

"Yes, Calvin and Tobias were called into the office of the Head of Angel Relations, Ms. Pennyworth-Mouthface." Lucy laughed loudly and that relaxed Elizabeth enough that she snuggled closer to them, laying her hand over Will's. "She is furious with them; so mad, actually, that the feathers on her wings start clucking like loud chickens. When she finally stopped yelling about the proper decorum of angels and the cost of the clean-up, she told them their punishment would be two hundred and twenty-eight years of mud testing."

Lucy wrinkled her nose in disgust. "How do you test mud?"

"By seeing how runny and dirty it is by having it thrown at you," Elizabeth whispered loudly in her ear, drawing a laugh out of all of them. When her giggles subsided, Elizabeth asked her, "Well, Ms. Turner, what happens next?"

"Yes, I'm on the edge of my seat here," Will chimed in.

Again, Lucy looked at them if as if they were crazy. "It's not my turn!"

"Who's is it then?"

Shaking her head, Lucy leaned forward, rendering them both speechless again when she put her ear to Elizabeth's belly and listened for what felt like an hour.

The most perfect hour of Will's entire life. If Elizabeth's teary smile was an indication, she shared his sentiment, running her hands through Lucy's long hair with a contented sigh.

 _Nothing will ever be better than this_ , Will thought happily, looking on as his daughter bonded with her unborn brother, Elizabeth radiant in the waning sunlight. _Wonder what will come along to take it all away?_

He wished he could ignore such an idea, but in Will Turner's life, he'd had never been allowed to keep anything he loved for very long.

Frowning slightly, he wondered who – or what – would come along to take this all away.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: So this either an early Christmas gift or a late Halloween one, depending on your viewpoint. I hope this isn't my last update before the New Year but my actual job is in retail so I'm not sure. Please enjoy this as much as I loved writing it and forgive any grammer/puncuation mistakes. Thanks again, let me know what you think!**

* * *

"Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth jumped slightly at Lucy's question, turning to find the girl looking at her expectantly. They had been spending Elizabeth's lunch break quietly wandering the length of shops near the café while they waited for Will to pick up Lucy. With school on summer holiday, they had devised a system of Will dropping Lucy at the café before he went to the shipyard so she didn't have to wake before sunrise. Today, though, instead of Lucy spending the afternoon with Elizabeth, Will was taking her into Kingston to look at a prestigious private school he was now able to afford thanks to Hank's largesse.

"Sorry, poppet. What did you ask?" Elizabeth apologized, shaking her head to dislodge the image of her and Will's very early morning tryst in the scullery that had been plaguing her throughout the day. They had been "officially" together for a few weeks now yet every time she saw him, in public or private, she still had fight herself from ripping his clothes off. Never in her life had she felt this indecent or wanton. It made functioning throughout the day difficult sometimes.

Thankfully, they shared a house with quite the adorable buffer who helped keep their respective libidos in check, however unknowingly.

"I was just wondering," Lucy began as they kept walking, "I heard Captain Jack say last night that Daddy was wasting all his money sending me to a school that will teach me the same spelling that everyone else learns, except with gold-plated pencils. Is that true?"

"No, it's not," Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes. "Your father is taking you to a school that will help you learn lots and lots of new things that you can't even imagine, things that will help you when you're a grown-up to get a wonderful job someday."

"But I'm not going to be a grown-up for…" Lucy considered for a moment, "five hundred months or so! Why do I have to start getting ready for it now?"

 _Because your father will surely want your math skills to improve by then_ , Elizabeth thought, biting back a smile.

"Because," she replied out loud, "you have a curious mind, Lucy Turner, but if you don't keep giving it knowledge, it won't keep growing. Just like how your skinny little legs need lots of milk and veggies for you to get bigger, your brain always needs knowledge to learn. Besides, think of all the books they're going to have in that library for you to read."

"That's true." They walked in silence for a bit longer until Lucy asked, "Did you get to go to fancy schools when you were a little girl?"

"I did, though contrary to what Jack thinks, our pencils were not gold-plated."

"They weren't?"

"Heavens, no." She winked down at the little girl. "They were encrusted with diamonds."

"No, they weren't!" Lucy laughed merrily.

"No, they weren't, but I was able to study loads of subjects with excellent teachers, which is what you'll get to do at Morningstar Academy."

"I know, I just…" She shrugged, kicking a loose rock aside with her shiny black shoes, perfectly clean, as was her dress that Elizabeth had worked hard all morning to keep immaculate in the cafe. "I won't get to be with any of my friends if I go there," she finally admitted.

Elizabeth managed to hold her wince back, but only by a hair. Ever since Will had come home to show them the brochures and rave about the open house he had gotten a spot at, she had done her best to be supportive. It was a wonderful opportunity for Lucy; being educated at a prestigious school would open many doors for her, ones Elizabeth would bulldoze through for her in a heartbeat. However, she knew all to well the what it could cost Lucy, too. She was only just starting to let other children see how amazing she was and if she went to Morningstar, she'd have to start from scratch all over again, only now she'd have to wear the stigma of the new girl, a stigma that many privileged children wouldn't let her forget if Elizabeth's schoolgirl recollections were anything to go by. The thought of Lucy reverting back into herself after so much progress gnawed at Elizabeth to no end.

But it was what Will wanted. They had discussed it more than a dozen times now – sometimes jokingly around friends and others privately in more muted tones – but she had never gotten Will to relent from his position and since he was her father, that was the end of it. She'd honor his wishes, be completely supportive, and let Lucy out into a world very different from her one in the sheltered beach cottage.

Even if her every instinct was screaming and thrashing to put a stop to it.

"Well, you'll still get to see them after school," Elizabeth said, filling her voice with false cheer. "And pretty soon, you're going to be old enough for sleepovers. I'll have to tell you about some of the mischief Bria and I got up to during ours."

Lucy opened her mouth to speak, but only managed a happy gasp as her eyes lit up at something behind Elizabeth. She tugged hard on her hand until they were both facing a lovely storefront window filled with baby paraphernalia that Elizabeth had been itching to go into for weeks. "Do we have time to look inside before Daddy comes?"

"Even if we didn't, we're still going to." They shared a sneaky grin before they entered, immediately immersed in a world of soft pastels and even softer materials, one that would make even the coldest of hearts warm over. Elizabeth marveled at the adorable outfits, holding one sleeper adorned with tiny sheep up to her bulging stomach. "Oh, isn't this just precious?"

Lucy didn't answer, having made a beeline for the display of stuffed animals. "We have to pick a really good one for him," she called back to Elizabeth, intently studying the collection of bears, rabbits, and other creatures. "Someone that's going to protect him, but still be his friend.

Elizabeth chuckled softly, still in awe sometimes of Lucy's imagination and heart. Content to watch her test out the toys' shape and fluffiness by hugging them, Elizabeth wandered over to the nearby chair section, finally settling on a cushioned beige glider.

 _Oh, this is heaven,_ Elizabeth thought to herself with a happy sigh as she sat down, propping her feet on the matching footrestwhen she started to slowly rock, laying one hand on her belly and fingering the sleeper she still carried with the other. _What do you think, Shelf? Do you think you'll like doing this on the outside?_

He kicked a little against her palm. He had been getting more active in recent days, though Will still hadn't been able to catch any of it just yet. She would've felt sorry for him if his pout whenever he pulled his hand off her wasn't so cute. Watching him be so in love with his son that he was impatient for even the tiniest flicker of movement made Elizabeth fall more in love with him, something she had no trouble with whatsoever.

It was so freeing to not have any more emotional barriers where Will was concerned. If she wanted to flirt with him over making dinner, she could; if she wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss, she could; and if she wanted to press her ear against his bare chest at night in bed after making passionate (though for the sake of Lucy, much quieter) love for hours, letting his steady heartbeat lull her to sleep, she could. For the first time in her life, she was in love with a man, truly head over heels, out of her mind in love, just like those trashy romance novels she pretended she didn't like to read, only it was better. Will wasn't some hulking lothario who clouded himself in mystery to hide his bruised heart from the world, or a charming best friend that had slowly but surely won her over, or even dashing hero that had saved her from villainous pirates before whisking her off to a deserted island somewhere. No, he was simply just Will; a good man striving to always be better not for himself, but for the people he loved.

She felt privileged that she was one of them now.

Almost as if her musings conjured him by magic, he walked into the shop, dressed sharply in his good jacket and pressed pants, finally smiling when his eyes spotted both her and Lucy. "Hey," he said, striding over and kissing her forehead. She would've preferred something a little more substantial, but he was still cautious about displays of affection in front of Lucy and she let it be. His eyebrows quirked up as he took her in. "Comfy?"

"Very. I may have found something I enjoy sitting on more than you."

"O-Okay then," he stammered around a chuckle. Her boldness that had come out in their few weeks together still managed to keep him on his toes and she loved being able to fully be herself for the first time in years, without fear of rejection or anger. "A little competition never hurt anyone."

"Aye, it's good to have goals to reach for," she teased, nestling more into the plush seat. "How'd you find us?"

"Stopped by the café. Anamaria said you were wandering around here. Didn't take Sherlock to put it together."

"Because you're a chauvinist pig who thinks all women want to spend their hours and money in shops?"

"That, and I saw you eyeing this place when we went to lunch last weekend." He squatted down next to her, keeping Lucy in his line of vision. "Why didn't you just say you wanted to come in then?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, a lot of Lucy's baby things are in storage in Jack's basement. It seems a bit wasteful to buy all new stuff, so I didn't want to torture you by bringing you in here."

"Well, maybe once in a great while it's fine to be a bit impractical," he said with a wink, taking the sleeper from her. "Like getting new outfits for your son so he doesn't wear ones that have pink rainbows all over them."

"Yeah?" Taking it back, she laid the fabric over stomach. "Maybe we'll bring him home in this from the hospital."

Will checked the tag quickly and grinned. "Not unless you plan on giving birth to a six-month-old."

"Ah," she replied, blushing slightly, folding the sleeper up to hide her embarrassment.

It was times like these when she remembered she was different than many women becoming mothers for the first time. She was with someone who had been through all this before, who would be her own personal cheat sheet as it were, even if it made her feel just the tiniest bit inferior. It hadn't been a lie that evening they'd let Lucy know she was pregnant, when Elizabeth had told Will she'd never be the parent he was. It all came so naturally to him while even now, well into her second trimester, there were still so many questions she had no idea how to answer.

Thankfully, if Will sensed her unease, he let it pass with nothing more than a kiss to her knuckle. "I better get going with her if we're going to catch the ferry."

"Right," she said, squeezing his hand but still unable to stop the small sigh from escaping.

"What is it?" he asked, as always attuned to her needs. Wonderful in most regards, except when she was trying to keep something to herself.

"Nothing," she tried to cover with a smile, pushing herself out of the chair. Trying to avoid his eyes, she started searching for a price. "Maybe we can put this on a layaway or something."

Will wasn't having it. "Elizabeth…"

Immediately, she glanced at Lucy. Pregnancy and newborns may be an insurmountable mystery to her, but she knew that little girl and what was waiting for her at an elite school full of brainwashed, entitled tiny subhumans.

She'd never forgive herself if she didn't make Will see that.

"It's only primary school," she began kindly, keeping her tone light. "There doesn't need to be such a fuss over it. Believe me, Cambridge and Oxford won't care where she learned how to read so long as she can."

"Liar," Will said as he stood. To his credit, he didn't brush her off, even though they had been over this subject endlessly lately. "She doesn't have the benefit of a good family name to get those opportunities. She needs a head start and so will he." His hands traveled to her waist and he looked down at her belly. "You know that because you're brilliant, thanks to that Oxford education of yours."

Elizabeth gently poked him in the chest. "And you know very well that your name **is** going to be a good one someday, ergo both of your children will not need Morningstar Academy on their transcripts, ergo there's no point in this whole exercise. Lucy is going to have a plethora of chances and so is William."

Even though her voice was teasing, the smile instantly slipped from Will's face and Elizabeth cursed herself for her slip of the tongue. For all his patience in letting her defend her position on Lucy's schooling, the one place he wouldn't give an inch was on their son's name. Elizabeth had tried using all manner of persuasion: flattery, bribery, and a few sexual positions that would've made Bria proud. But nothing could penetrate his belief that calling their son William would curse him in some way; tie him to a legacy of failure and shame that Elizabeth still hadn't convinced Will he had escaped. He still didn't see that he alone had made the name of William Turner one that any man in his family would be proud to hold.

It was her son's name. If there was one surety if her ever-changing world, it was that.

Young William still had time, though. Lucy did not. She needed Elizabeth to get back to the task at hand.

"I didn't mean to-"

"I can't call him that," Will explained evenly. "You know this. There's very few things in the world I won't do for you, but that's one of them."

"Okay," Elizabeth replied, bypassing the parts of the conversation she didn't like to hear, "then do this for me: Listen. Listen, and hear me when I tell you that children at schools like that can be cruel. They can make the Kayla Millers of this world look like sweet little kittens. Lucy shouldn't have to face all that to learn proper arithmetic and cursive writing."

"And what do I say to her ten years from now? 'Yes, you could have had a better chance at a top-notch university like Oxford or Harvard, but I was worried that you were going to get called mean names and be picked last for football, so I held you back.' How is that fair to her? You can't shelter kids forever from all the bad out there." Will carefully tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, making her skin tingle enough that she almost missed what he said after. "Besides, she's strong enough to handle it, especially with all the tricks you taught her."

Elizabeth pulled back, deeply perplexed. "Will, Lucy's not even six yet," she whispered. "She shouldn't have to be strong for anyone."

He blinked, his brow furrowing until he saw Lucy coming over to them. "We've got to go," he finally said quietly.

"Yeah," Elizabeth nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat. For Lucy's sake, she smiled and pulled her in for a side hug. "Did you find any good ones?"

"A few, but none that I loved. Bria says if you don't love something, you shouldn't buy it because it'll just sit in your room, staring at you and making you feel guilty and life's too short for that rubbish."

"Watch your language, sweetheart," Will scolded gently with an eyeroll, making Elizabeth smile a bit. Ever since their trip, Bria's near-daily phone calls had expanded to include Lucy as well. Bria always huffed when Elizabeth handed the phone over, but their conversations could last close to an hour sometimes and Elizabeth knew her friend wasn't just humoring Lucy. It may have taken longer for her than Elizabeth, but she had fallen under Lucy's spell, utterly powerless in the end. She'd even taken the time to start writing Lucy letters. When she had received the first one, Lucy hadn't even opened it the first day, proudly showing off the stuffed envelope with her name and British postage on it to everyone she saw. If they had to keep an eye out for Lucy slipping some of Bria's choice vocabulary into conversation, it was a price worth paying for two parts of Elizabeth's heart to bond.

"Sorry, Daddy," Lucy replied. "Are we going to my new school now?"

His hesitation before he answered gave Elizabeth hope. _Come on, luv_ , she thought, gazing at him beseechingly. _Trust me, that joyous spark of hers will get crushed at a place like that. All of the degrees and titles won't mean anything if she isn't happy. I know that for a fact._

Whatever chance he had of hearing her faded when he looked down at Lucy. "Let's get a move on then."

"Are you coming with us?" she asked Elizabeth.

"No, poppet, I have to go back to work." Stooping, she pressed a kiss to her cheek. "You'll tell me all about it at dinner tonight, right?"

Lucy nodded promptly, taking Will's hand to tug him out of the store. He resisted for a beat, taking in the disappointment that Elizabeth couldn't muster the energy to hide from him. Nodding to her, he leaned in to rest his forehead against hers, knowing for once that his kiss wouldn't be welcome, but still wanting to reaffirm their connection. Despite her hurt, Elizabeth needed it too.

"Call me. Let me know how it all goes," she murmured, letting his familiar scent calm her.

"I will." He bowed slightly lower, barely brushing her nose with his. "I love you."

"Good, because I adore you."

They shared a small smile and Elizabeth watched them walk out together, Lucy merrily describing what she had helped bake that morning, wishing with all her might that she could simply trust Will's judgement with this as she did with nearly everything else. He'd raised Lucy all by himself and had never given her any reason to doubt his abilities. For goodness sake, it was seeing him as a father that had made her love for him totally binding. Her own experiences were probably just clouding things. Now with the freedom to assert her own opinions and not the ones her father wanted her to parrot, perhaps she was merely creating opportunities to do so.

 _That has to be it_ , she thought resolutely as she started walking back to the café with purpose. _I'm just making mountains out of molehills, like Mum used to say. I'm being unreasonable. Lucy's education is what matters and she'll get a fantastic one there, even if it means she'll have to stiffen her spine when other girls start…no, no stop it! She'll be right as rain._

If Elizabeth kept telling herself that every hour on the hour, she might start believing it soon enough.

Needing a distraction, she strode back into work with renewed vigor, finishing off the baking for the last of the lunch rush before she began the prep work for the next day, along with something personal she'd been working on for a while now. She was pounding out all of her frustrations into a rye dough when Anamaria wandered into the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" she asked, handing Elizabeth a bottle of water. Most of the staff had gone home already or were cleaning out front, leaving the two privacy for a bit of candor.

"Nothing." She took a long drink before admitting, "Or everything. I don't know. What do you do with Jack when you're nervous the next time you see him you'll have a huge row?"

Anamaria shrugged, nonplussed. "Shot of whiskey and then I screw his brains out before the _idiota_ can open his mouth."

"Sound plan."

"Works for us. You're still upset about the whole school thing?"

"Not upset, just…" At Anamaria's pointed smile, she shrugged and went back to her dough. "Fine, I'm upset. It's the first time we've ever really disagreed on anything and since it's Lucy I can't get a feel for how to handle this. I mean, he's her dad and I'm…I'm only the girlfriend so I can't-OW!" Elizabeth's forehead stung from where Anamaria had flicked it hard with her finger. "What was that for?"

"When I hear people I care about say stupid things, I want to hit them," Anamaria explained. "It's how I show my love."

"No wonder you and Bria got on so well," Elizabeth muttered under her breath, making to escape for the fridge.

Undeterred, Anamaria smoothly grabbed her wrist and tugged her back. "You're not just the girlfriend or a fuck buddy. Will may beat you on longevity with Lucy, but my baby girl has been all about Elizabeth Swann since you came to town. You're a cornerstone for her, _mi amour_ , so don't ever apologize or think you're overstepping some arbitrary bounds if you think there's something she needs or doesn't need."

She bristled under her friend's fiery rebuke. "We haven't even been officially dating for three weeks and I'm supposed to tell him how to raise his child?"

"Well, you're going to be raising one for the rest of your life with him pretty soon, so it might be time to start taking the training wheels off."

"You can be a right nasty bitch sometimes," Elizabeth told her, tempering her words with a pat to Anamaria's cheek with her floury hand.

"Only when it's called for." Stealing some sliced bananas from the prep table, she sauntered back to her office, pausing to throw out over her shoulder. "And don't give me any of that 'officially' bullshit. You've been more than dating for a long time now. I bet you ten to one odds your baby shower is going to double as a wedding reception."

"Ha, ha!" Elizabeth shot back sarcastically, shaking her head at her ridiculous, meddling friend though to be honest, she much preferred women who spoke their mind honestly to her than the vapid debutantes her father had always tried to pair her up with. Putting the dough away, she gathered the ingredients she needed for her own project and tried to put her focus on that. Yet as she was carefully mixing her caramel over the stove, her mind wandered back to what Anamaria had said.

 _Wedding reception, please. He's not ready to ask me anything like that! And even if he was, it's not like I would…I mean, there's no way its sensible to…We're still not using the loo together! We can't be thinking about marriage!_

Sighing, Elizabeth eyes fell to her left hand stirring the thickening sauce and wondered what it would look like with a ring on her fourth finger. Knowing Will, it wouldn't be anything ostentatious like many of the engagement rings she'd seen on her acquaintances in London. Even if he could afford that, he wasn't one for over-the-top toys and trinkets. She imagined it would be something small but still delicate and clean; something that would age well over time; something she'd treasure for the rest of their days or until their son grew and found someone he loved as much she and Will loved each other. Only then would she finally take it off, so it could be passed down to her boy's future wife.

 _That's not helping!_

But she didn't want to be helped because with the idea implanted in her brain, it was all she could think of:

A long, white dress that billowed in the breeze.

Exchanging vows on the beach, the waves pounding nearby over the sound of her heart.

Sailing off somewhere for a private honeymoon with Will.

Being with him forever.

No, **belonging** to him forever, as he would belong to her. Being his wife, his true partner in the years to come.

 _Elizabeth Swann-Turner…Mrs. Elizabeth Swann-Turner…_

"That's going to burn." Elizabeth jumped almost three feet in the air at the sound of the deep voice, her heart restarting when she found Bootstrap standing beside her, smiling crookedly in amusement and nodding to her pot. "Might want to keep a better eye on that."

"Right, no doubt." Adding a splash of cream while taking it off the burner saved the caramel and she returned his grin while she finished stirring. "Thank you. That could've been a disaster."

"No worries. Sorry to pull you out of your daydream. It looked like a pleasant one."

If possible, her smile became brighter while she set the pot down to retrieve the crust from the fridge. "It was. What brings you by here?"

"Taking orders. I'm leaving for a spell and I wanted to see if Anamaria needed anything from off the island."

"How long will you be gone?"

"A couple weeks, maybe a month. Long enough for me to finally finish that Agatha Christie novel you threw at me the other day."

Elizabeth smiled, carefully pouring the caramel into the crust. In the handful of conversations she had had with Bootstrap lately, often at Jack's for dinner if Will was working late, they'd had many lively debates about British literature, the one person in Arbor Bay who shared her tastes in fiction.

"Hopefully you'll love it as much as my gentleman will love this."

After a moment, she heard him ask quietly, "You're making a pie for Will?"

"Uh-huh. On our first date – the one you got me all nice and bucked up for, by the way – we started trading stories. He told me one about the time his mother let him have a banoffee pie for his birthday dinner and how it was the best thing he ever ate. Ever since then, I've been recipe testing. Think I finally got it this time." Topping the pie with the sliced bananas and homemade whipped cream, she presented it with a flourish. "What do you think?"

He studied it thoughtfully, long enough for Elizabeth to wonder what he was really seeing instead of a dessert, before he smiled warmly at her. "That Will's very lucky to have you."

"T-Thank you," she replied, surprised. Every talk with this man seemed to zig when she was expecting a zag. Carefully packaging the finished project in a box, she stowed it in the fridge. "You know, you have never told me what your favorite sweet is."

"No, I haven't, have I?"

When he offered nothing more, she shook her head again. "You won't even let me make you a treat to send on your way? A lady might take offense."

"I'd just rather you didn't waste your time with me."

Leaning against the table, she eyed him strangely. "Don't you think I should get to decide what I'm allowed to do with my own time? Particularly if I just want to do something nice for a sweet man who's shown me nothing but kindness?"

It almost looked like Bootstrap wanted to argue with her, but stopped himself with a long, defeated breath. "I almost feel sorry for that little boy." He nodded at her belly. "You'll be able to guilt him into submission before he's even realized he's misbehaved."

"From your mouth to God's ears. Now spill: what's your fancy?"

"Well…I suppose I had a taste for lemon posset when I was younger. Haven't had one in many years though. It's a bit old fashioned, kind of a custard dish."

"I've heard of it," she said neutrally, while dancing a rowdy jig on the inside. Lucy had become obsessed with making English desserts after looking through one of Elizabeth's weathered cookbooks and they had been trying a few at home together. Lemon posset had been a big hit the other night and she still had some left in the fridge at home; Will especially had raved about it so she'd made an extra batch.

 _Fortune favors the prepared_ , she thought happily as Anamaria joined them.

"Hey," she greeted Bootstrap with a grin. "What's up sailor?"

"Just seeing if you needed anything while I was off my own."

"We're all good, thanks. You making deliveries for someone?" When he didn't answer right away, her eye's narrowed sharply and she folded her arms. "For who?"

Bootstrap glanced at Elizabeth before saying, "I'll be fine."

"For who?" Anamaria demanded.

"Dalton," he admitted reluctantly. When Anamaria tried to protest, Bootstrap raised his hand. "It's not drugs, it's not fencing stolen goods. Just some documents he wants delivered to Miami by hand without going through a courier."

"You know that asshole stiffed Jack out of five grand for shit he had delivered to the club."

"And Jack stiffed him, and Lord knows how many other people on this island at one point or another. We're pirates; it's what we do best."

"Look, if you need cash you can just-"

Bootstrap silenced her with a kiss to the cheek. "I'm going to check in with our esteemed captain before I go. You're sure there's nothing I can get you?"

She sighed heavily, fixing his messy shirt collar. "Well, if you're going to insist on being such a _tonto_ , can you stop in Little Havana and grab me some candles from Esteban? The ones he makes with the…"

"Coffee beans, yes of course." Smiling at Elizabeth. "And you, my dear? Anything you need?"

"No thank you," she replied, examining him carefully to see if he was lying. "Just…Just be safe, okay?"

That made him laugh out loud, a boisterous sound that lit up his weathered face. "I'll be just fine. This one," he hugged Anamaria to his side, "likes to fret over a silly old man to make him feel important."

"Because you are important, silly old man." Anamaria kissed him soundly. "Call and keep your radio on this time. I won't let Jack start blasting show tunes through his again."

"I promise." Pulling away, he bowed his head towards Elizabeth. "Ms. Swann.

He was at the door when Elizabeth called back to him, "Bootstrap? You best finish that entire book on your trip. I've got a whole stack more waiting for you when you come home."

The word "home" seemed to throw him a bit. Without answering, he nodded slowly and left them alone. A small stone of worry settling in Elizabeth's stomach that wouldn't be gone until the mystery man returned, she turned to Anamaria. "He will be alright, won't he? It's not dangerous?"

"Yeah, it's not criminal or anything. I just don't like him sailing all by himself."

"I thought he's an excellent sailor."

"He is, but he's older and the ocean likes to make its own rules. I wish he'd let us give him money so he doesn't have to do these stupid runs."

"Sounds like he's as stubborn about help as Will is," Elizabeth said nonchalantly, wiping down the prep table.

"What?" Anamaria said, looking at her sharply.

"I said he seems like Will. You know, Bootstrap not taking money and working harder than he has to because…" She felt her friend's gaze burning into her and stopped cleaning. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing," Anamaria replied, flushing slightly before hauling tail back to her office. "I'm gonna take care of the count out."

"Did I say something-?"

"Nope." The door closed tight behind her and Elizabeth retraced her words, trying to find her error but not seeing it.

 _Anamaria would've let me know if I crossed a line_ ," she thought to herself later when she was home and finishing the posset for Bootstrap. _She's not one to cower in the corner, remember?_

Satisfied with her conclusion, she left the warm kitchen and trooped across the sand to the dock towards Bootstrap's sloop, dish in hand, forcing herself to not think of what Lucy was doing right then; hoping she wasn't being bullied but also, strangely, hoping she wasn't enjoying herself. If Will saw her adjusted and happy, he'd be even less inclined to listen to Elizabeth about the perils of private schools. Not that Elizabeth wanted her miserable, it was simply a situation of a short-term loss, long-term gain. What did it say about her, though, that Elizabeth was willing to have her suffer even a little if it meant Elizabeth could be right?

"That you're a hormonal basket case who is going to dress her son in clothes three sizes too large while calling him something his father hates to get your way," she sighed to herself when she was on the dock, her footsteps echoing loudly across it. "Bootstrap!" she called down into the boat. "Are you here?"

There was no answer. Hoping he wouldn't mind, she very carefully climbed aboard, admiring the clean white façade before venturing to the small door that led below deck, navigating the stairs until she was inside the silent cabin. The interior was sparse and clean: island kitchen, a table secured to the wall with two chairs, and long cushioned window seat that faced the small portholes. A few steps away, she could see bedroom and a closed door that was probably the ship's washroom. The counters and lone side table held stacks of what looked like rolled-up nautical maps, as well as notebooks, magazines, and paperbacks, the one she had loaned him on the top of the pile. The only other decoration in the room was a framed painting, an abstract piece in hues of gold, black, and dark green that seemed familiar to Elizabeth.

 _It almost looks like a Pollock but more refined_ , she thought, edging closer to get a better look before remembering she was in someone's home, not an art museum. Shaking her head, she set the dish down on a clear spot on the counter, looking for pen and paper to leave a quick note. In her search, she knocked down some of the magazines and she hastened to clean it up, surprised by what she found.

The UnGodly Repugnant Slag had actually turned out to be a decent writer. Her profile piece of Will had landed him on the cover of _Sailing World_ , staring seriously off into the ocean from the shipyard. Elizabeth well remembered when the advance copies had been sent to the house. He had looked so bloody sexy that she had dragged him away from Jack's and took him in the shed, not letting him out for over two hours and giving him plenty of material for his imagination if he ever felt the need to escape there on his own again. Running her fingers over the picture, the familiar stirrings hummed along, but she simply smiled, proud of this wonderful man and all he had accomplished.

 _Maybe no Swann then_. _Maybe I'll just take his name as my own_. Flipping open to the article, she found it right away thanks to the blank bookmark Bootstrap had stuck inside. The article itself included more pictures of the handsome subject, including her favorite, a casual pose with Lucy in his arms. Her face was obscured by her windblown hair, but Will's grin was big enough for both of them. Elizabeth smiled wider. _Goodness, I love them so much._

In her little happy bubble, the bookmark had fallen to the floor. She bent to retrieve it, finding it to be an old photograph on the other side. A younger, more carefree Bootstrap smiled back at her from a pier somewhere, along with a boy proudly holding up a large fish he had just caught; a boy with a shyer smile, brown hair, and shining eyes that matched perfectly the man in the magazine picture.

Rising slowly, she stared in disbelief at both images. Her brain struggled, trying to force itself to a conclusion besides the obvious one, the suddenly inescapable one, the one that had been smackdab in front of her for weeks that she had been too thick to see. All it earned her was a buzzing sound in her head that masked the footsteps of the boat's owner.

"Who's there?" Bootstrap called down. Elizabeth had no voice to answer him with. After a moment, he walked down, his hair still damp from the shower he had clearly taken at Jack's before he set sail. When he spotted her, he froze in his cabin, eyes darting to the magazine and photo in front of her on the counter.

It was one of the longest moments of her life before she was able to speak. "I brought you possets," she said stiffly, nodding to the forgotten desserts. "Lemon ones."

"You didn't have to-"

"Lucy and I made them the other night. We had extras because Will liked them so much." She blinked in realization. "Now I know why."

"Elizabeth…"

"You're his father," she said without preamble.

He swallowed hard, nodding slowly. "Yes."

Even though she knew, the simple confirmation of it was still brutal, rolling over her in shockwaves that disconnected her mind from her lips. "You're not dead," she heard herself say.

"I am to him," Bootstrap said, shrugging helplessly.

 _Schematics? Clever wordplay? That's the excuse Will has for lying to me?!_

There had been times when her father had overridden her concerns when she was younger and made decisions she had disagreed with. With every one of them, there had been frustration, a vague sense of not truly mattering to him, the man who supposedly loved her more than anything. It couldn't compare to the blazing fury creeping up her spine right now.

She had put her trust in Will; come to this place to have a child with him, live with him, build something **more** with him. She had let him into herself in a way no one else ever had known, telling him secrets and fears that had kept her crippled most of her life. The only thing that had it made bearable was the simple fact that he done the same with.

Only he hadn't.

"S-So everyone knew except for me. The woman who's shared a house with him for months. The woman who's having a baby with him. Everyone else got to know this big secret except for me."

"Everyone knew because they were here with him when he was younger, when I…Elizabeth, I was…"

"Yes, yes, this part I've heard: you were a drunken louse who abandoned Will and his mum to poverty." Bootstrap closed his eyes as if the verbal blow was a physical one. It quelled the anger scorching through her enough that she tempered her tone a little when she continued, "That's Will version, at least. What's yours?"

"The only one that matters is his. After his mother died, he tried to find me here, all by himself. He crossed paths with Jack, who more than repaid whatever debt he owed me by taking in my boy when I couldn't."

"And Lucy? You're just Captain Jack's friend to her? She has no idea you're her grandfather." She pressed her hands to her head, feeling a headache coming on strong. "He's lying to her too."

"Elizabeth, no. The only reason I know her is because Jack had her over one day. I would've been fine hiding here in my ship, but he insisted out of some sense of misplaced loyalty and I…I was just too weak to say no to getting to speak to that angel. It's gotten a bit out of hand now, I know. None of it is Will's fault though."

"Why are you so bloody concerned with defending him to me?"

"Because," Bootstrap looked her straight in the eye, "he may not think of me as his father, but he's still my son. I had so many chances to make it right with Will and I squandered all of them, not him. He has no reason to want me in his life." With great caution, he took her by the shoulders. "Believe me, I'm not worth whatever anger you're feeling right now."

"Oh, so now you're going to tell me what to do with my feelings as well as my time." Brushing him aside, she started to leave. "Enjoy the possets. Keep them refrigerated. They're delicious with raspberries, if you're so inclined."

"Just please do me this one favor." His voice stopped her on the stairs. "If you're so determined to unleash this rage on him, know this: For a long time, all he ever knew of love was loss. Until Lucy, and now you and this baby. If you should find yourself arguing and saying in the heat of the moment that you hate him, he might believe it so please, I beg you, choose your words carefully with him."

Unable to answer without crying her angry tears in front of him, she marched out, trying not to let her mind wander to the obvious:

This man, Bootstrap, William Turner Sr. – her son's **grandfather** – loved Will with all his heart yet Will couldn't find a way to let go of the past and see that.

She had always thought him to be so different from Weatherby Swann, but was he really?

* * *

Will looked over at Lucy sitting beside him on the bench as they waited for the ferry, watching as she broke off bits of the muffin he'd bought her to feed to the nearby birds. Finally, he asked he what had been plaguing him since they had left the picturesque ivy-lined walls of Morningstar Academy. "What did you think, sweetheart?"

"Of the school?"

"Yeah."

"I liked it," she said simply, with neither a smile or frown. "They had a telescope in the classroom. Miss Chatwin said once a month, they have a Science Night and kids can use it to study the stars."

"Well you know what she told me? She said you were one of the brightest little girls she has met in twenty years of teaching."

"Really?"

"Really. She thinks you'll do very well if you go to school there."

"Okay." Lucy seemed completely nonplussed with the idea and went back to her feathered friends, paying no mind to the deep contemplation her father was going through.

When she was newborn, fresh and alive in his arms, Will would've given anything for Lucy to have the chance at a high-quality education without a moment's hesitation. The same was true five years ago, five months ago, and even five hours ago but ever since Elizabeth had said her piece at the store – her eyes intently on his with almost desperate need – every thought and plan he had made for his daughter's future was up in the air.

" _She shouldn't have to be strong for anyone_ …"

There hadn't been time for a childhood when he was a boy. There were instances, small moments of light in unrelenting darkness, when he had known a bit of carefree innocence but for the most part, he had needed to carry himself with more poise than his peers. He couldn't play pranks with other boys for fear of getting caught and disappointing his weary mother. He couldn't slack off in school and risk detention because he had had to work paper routes or other odd jobs for money. And there wasn't much time for simple play later on when his mother was dying slowly in front of him. His struggles had built up his fortitude, made him independent, a trait he had been happy to see blossom in Lucy because he knew the value of self-reliance was incalculable.

But had it come with a cost? He thought he had seen the worst of it during her period of being bullied, when she kept her feelings locked away so as not to burden him. She had seemed to recover nicely, though, now much more open and having an easier time making friends.

Perhaps he was the one who hadn't learned the valuable lesson from that experience.

"Lucy?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to go to this school when term starts?"

It was the first time he had asked her. She was unusually cautious, answering, "I don't know. Sometimes I think it would be quite grand to because I could learn lots and then I'd be even smarter than Captain Jack."

He chuckled, draping an arm around her shoulder. "Trust me, you already are. So, if you want to learn more than you are now, why are you still not sure about changing schools?"

She shrugged, throwing the last bit of muffin away to the birds, waiting until the battle for it was over before she said, "I'll miss my friends. If I go to Morningstar, I'll have to eat lunch and play by myself, like before. I don't want to do that."

"Or you could make new friends," he tried to encourage her. "I bet it wouldn't take you more than a week to have all the kids there eating out of the palm of your hand." He kissed it for emphasis.

"Eck!" She shivered a little. "That's sounds yucky! I'd get their spit all over me!"

"No, no, it's only a phrase. It means you are a very likable young lady that kids would love to be friends with."

"What if they think I'm strange again?" Lucy asked quietly. "Some of the other kids at the open house looked at me funny. It didn't feel nice."

His heart broke at the forlorn expression on her face. "You can't control what other people think or say, sweetheart. All you can do is be yourself and part of that is being a little girl who can get ten times smarter than she already is by going to a better school."

Lucy nodded thoughtfully, leaning further into his side. "That's what Elizabeth said."

"She did?"

"Uh-huh. She told me my brain needs lots of new books and lessons to get bigger. It can get all that at the new school."

"Yeah. Yeah, it could." They cuddled quietly together until the ferry horn sounded and they boarded hand-in-hand. When they were standing on the deck enjoying the sea breeze, Will said, "We should stop and get Elizabeth a present tonight."

"Why?"

Because even when she disagreed with him, she defended his actions to his daughter. Because she was willing to stand her ground when Lucy's wellbeing was concerned. Because, simply put, everything in his life was better since she had become a part of it.

"Because she deserves one."

Lucy nodded in agreement, giving him her first genuine smile of the afternoon. When they made it back to Arbor Bay, they stopped at a local florist stand and Will tasked his daughter with picking the perfect bouquet while he surreptitiously made a call, arranging the purchase and delivery of Elizabeth's actual gift to arrive at their house the next day. He hoped she'd be happy with it. He wanted nothing more than to spend every day making her happy.

It was worth it for all she had given him.

Lucy ran into the house with the flowers the second the car was parked, eager to present them and Will wandered in behind her, catching out of the side of his eye that Bootstrap's sloop was gone from Jack's dock.

 _Good riddance_ , he thought, his mood improving further as he walked in the kitchen to find Elizabeth inhaling her flowers. "They're beautiful," she told a beaming Lucy.

"They're lilies. Daddy said they're your favorite."

Will saw the lines on Elizabeth's smile tighten ever so when Lucy mentioned him, and his stomach plummeted, along with whatever hope he had for a pleasant evening between the two of them. "That they are. Why don't you wash up, poppet, and then we can get started on dinner, yeah?"

Elizabeth turned her back to him when Lucy scurried away, getting a vase for the flowers, the tension radiating off her back. "Elizabeth," he said slowly, coming behind her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "Look, I'm sorry that I didn't listen to-"

"Please don't touch me," she whispered to the cabinet.

It may as well have been a scream to Will. Mutely, he let her go and stepped back to give her space. "Alright, this afternoon was-"

"Not now."

"Beg your pardon?"

She finally graced him with a view of her face and he wished he could unsee the stony etch of disappointment she wore across it. He hadn't felt this small in ages. "We'll do this later," she continued evenly. "When Lucy's in bed."

He nodded as Lucy rejoined them and spent the rest of the evening putting on a cheerful façade for his daughter, participating in conversation but silently planning his defense as his hour of judgement drew near. He had clearly underestimated either Elizabeth's true feelings on Morningstar or his own dismissiveness if her anger was this potent. Then again, perhaps it was just an unpleasant byproduct of the pregnancy. The rows he and Rebecca had gotten into at times were staggering; more than once, he had punched a hole into a wall to channel his frustration at her cruel remarks. He had thought Rebecca's antagonism had been a symptom of her withdrawal, but maybe he had been wrong. Elizabeth certainly had a temper when she wanted to. Jack could get her going from a zero to an eight with only a few sentences. This was just the first time that anger was turned on him and he was not enjoying it.

There was some valor in losing with dignity. He had learned that from living with Jack and Anamaria. (Well, the valor at least; not so much the dignity with Jack involved.) It was easier for him because he knew in this instance he had been in the wrong. The trick was going to be apologizing sincerely without seeming like he was merely trying to placate Elizabeth. A cunning man with a knack for words might have been able to navigate these waters, but Will had never thought himself that and so he found himself hours later still practicing in his mind while he read Lucy her bedtime story.

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?" he murmured, casually peeking to see how many more pages he had left, how much more time he could buy.

"Is Auntie Ana your sister?"

"Um…huh." He put the book down, curious as to where her question came from. "Why do you ask?"

"Miss Chatwin had us talk about our families and when I talked about Auntie Ana, another girl said she wasn't really my auntie because you're not her brother. Is she right?"

"Well, technically, this young lady is right because Anamaria and I aren't blood relatives," Will explained, joining her on the bed and leaning back against the headboard. The room was much more crowded since her trip with Bria, every corner filled with new toys, dolls, and stuffed animals but it was Felix who she always kept with her at night. "But being family is about more than blood. I've been through things with Anamaria and Jack and the others that bonded us for life in a way that not even blood-related families are."

"Like what?"

He tickled lightly under her chin. "Like raising you, for one. None of us knew anything about babies before you came along. We all had to figure you out together." He turned reflective. "And we've seen each other through really good times-"

"Like when we opened the café and Pintel and Ragetti set the banner on fire?" Lucy asked with a giggle.

"Yup, and some other not-so-fun times, like when Mr. Cotton got sick and was in the hospital."

"I remember. I made him lots of get-well cards."

"Which worked their magic, as you know by all the candy beans he sneaks you when he thinks I'm not looking." He kissed the crown of her head, nuzzling his nose into it. "It's not about if they're related to you or what you call them, sweetheart; if you love someone big enough, they're your family."

"Really?" Something in her eyes begged him to reassure her and even though he didn't understand why, he did.

"I promise and don't ever let any of Morningstar's finest make you think otherwise."

"Ok." Her bright smile dissolved into a yawn and he got up to finish tucking her in.

Just before he turned off her bedside lamp, he braced himself above her, taking in her sleepy face as sleep started to overtake her. "Do you want to go there, Lucy?" Will asked her again quietly. Cuddling Felix closer to her, she gently shook her head from side to side. "Okay then. You don't have to."

"But you said you wanted me to go to a nice school. You were really happy they might have a spot for me there."

" **You** being happy is what makes me happy," he gently corrected her. "Anything that gets in the way of that is a nonstarter. Never forget that." He gave her one more kiss as he settled the blankets over her. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Daddy."

He lingered in the doorway as she drifted off, telling himself the lie that he wanted only to enjoy these precious, fleeting moments of her innocence while knowing deep down he was trying to delay the inevitable.

 _Hiding from a fight you know you'll lose. Good example you're setting for both your kids, Turner._

With the knot in his stomach coiling, he set off for Elizabeth, finding her in the bedroom folding laundry, not looking up when he entered. Unsure of where to start, he said, "You're good at that now. The laundry, I mean. Remember when you decided to stay, you were frantic because you had never done any by yourself and now…" His attempt at humor and nostalgia failed when she still refused eye contact. He took a deep breath, hoping he could make his words match his feelings. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I'm so sorry I ignored you about the school. You were absolutely right about it not being the place for her now. I'm not sending her there."

Her reply to his about-face was to continue rolling socks together, not sparing him a glance, her anger evident in the harsh movement of her hands. Will tried again.

"It was exactly like you said it would be: stuffy, pretentious, and totally wrong for Lucy. I mean, maybe when she's older and she can decide if she wants more of a challenge with academics, we can revisit it, but she doesn't need it now. She's a child and she should just get to be a child without worrying about anything that's going to come up later on in life. I was wrong to put that pressure on her, even a little bit. I just…Being ready for the worst is all I know. I've worked so hard to make sure she never knows some of the things I lived through when I was her age, yet there's a part of me that needs to know she'll be alright if anything bad happens. You know what I mean?"

The only reaction he got out of her was moving the folded clothes to the drawers and he felt his frustrations start to boil to the surface.

"Look, this isn't easy for me," he said, keeping his voice low, mindful of how close Lucy was. "Admitting I was wrong, sharing my feelings; hell, sharing **her**." He gestured towards where Lucy's room was. "I've never had anyone question my decisions for my daughter. Everything that affected her went through me first and I…" As she straightened, the curve of her belly drew him in and he sighed in understanding. "It's different now, though. With you and the baby. There's going to be two of us that need to take care of him and I'm glad because doing it by myself was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. You have no idea how lonely it could be. I don't want you to."

Still nothing. Done with the laundry, she eased herself to sit on the end of the bed and he tentatively joined her, careful not to touch her even though he desperately wanted to.

"I don't know how to fix this," he admitted. "I have no experience with relationships and mending them when I've fucked up, but I want to learn. I **need** to learn because odds are I'm going to fuck up a lot more. I know I will and when I do, I want to make it better. Not because I deserve to be forgiven but because I don't ever want you to be hurt or angry. All I'll ever want is for you to be happy, Elizabeth. Just tell me how. Please, just say something."

His pleading worked. Slowly, she met his eyes and took a deep breath. Finally, she said, "I met your father today."

It was the most she had spoken to him in hours, but it was the five words he had never wanted or imagined she'd say to him.

 _Oh shit_ , he thought, every aspect of Elizabeth's behavior making sudden, stark sense.

She hadn't been frustrated about the bloody school or worried he wouldn't listen to her about the baby. She had been angry because of all the ways he could've fucked up, this was the pinnacle.

"Elizabeth…"

"Actually, that's not true. I met him weeks ago, I just never knew he was your father until this afternoon. I thought he was the sweet old man that was too nice to be one of Jack's oldest friends."

"How did you-?"

"No one told me. Your little secret was well-kept." She snorted, rising and grabbing her pajamas. "I dropped something off on his boat. He had a picture of you from when you were a little older than Lucy. You were quite adorable. Shame you grew up to be such liar."

Her disdain was piercing, making him instantly defensive to avoid acknowledging how much it hurt. "I didn't mean to be."

"Yes, you did. There were at least a thousand times you could have mentioned it and every time you said nothing. Every time you lied to me," she practically growled as she changed behind the closet door, something she had never done. It was as if she needed barriers between them.

"What was I supposed to say exactly?"

"That your father was Jack's friend, he visits occasionally, and you don't have a good relationship with him. My word, that was difficult."

"Well now see, **that** would've been the actual lie because I don't have any relationship with that man. Bootstrap isn't my father."

She shook her head when she came out in her short nightgown, loosing her hair to brush it out. "That's exactly what he said you'd say. You two are a lot alike," she mumbled to herself.

If she was trying to wound him, she was far more ruthless than he had ever given her credit for. He clenched and unclenched his fists, counting his breaths as he fought for control.

"I don't like discussing him," Will told her after a long moment. "It's easier to have him not exist for me."

"And you think I enjoyed telling you about my mother? My stupid, directionless life before I came here? How I can't stand my own father right now but I'm still too weak to cut him out of my life? If you think confessing any of that was easy, think again." Her brushstrokes became ferocious. "I did it because if we are seriously going to be sharing our lives with each other, it's actually a good idea to, I don't know, share our bloody lives with each other!"

"How many times do I have to say that Bootstrap isn't a part of my life before you believe it?"

"If you think he isn't, you're delusional. He's connected to everyone you know, including Lucy and me."

"Connected? You've had a few conversations with him and that translates into a meaningful kinship all of a sudden?"

"What can I say? He's a nice man that happens to be my son's grandfather." She threw the brush down, but when she tried to walk past him, he found himself taking her by the upper forearm, using every ounce of tolerance not to squeeze her tightly.

"Never, ever call him that around me," he ordered gingerly, his eyes burning into hers. "That man is a worthless monster that will have no influence on either of my children as long as I live. Do you understand?"

The small room seemed charged to combust until Elizabeth's shoulders sagged slightly. He heard her breath hitch in her throat and watched as the anger melted slowly into a soft despair. "Why can't you forgive him?" Elizabeth whispered. "I've always thought you to be the most compassionate man I've ever met and now…What could he have ever done to deserve this amount of hate?"

Without warning, it felt like every childhood wound and trauma washed over him in a tidal wave and Will – ill equipped for such an onslaught – let himself be pulled under its weight of fury. "You know what one of my first memories was?" he hissed. "My mum bundling me up in blankets late at night, so she could drive around looking through pubs for my father when he hadn't been home in three days. I didn't mind too much when he was gone. If he was in the pubs, he wasn't passed out in the living room stinking up the whole flat with his cheap Scotch and cigarettes."

"Lots of people have parents who were alcoholics. They learn to let go of the past."

"Maybe they do when their pasts don't involve stopping themselves from nicking scraps of old meat and bones that butchers would leave outside for stray dogs because the grocery money was lost to happy hour. They probably didn't have to line their threadbare clothes and shoes with old newspaper during the winter, did they? Or spend hours scrounging for cans to turn in for change so their mum could catch a bus to a menial job with no benefits that kicked her to the curb when the cancer hit. Because I got to do all that while my old man was lounging on fishing boats in paradise getting paid in rum. That's a little hard to let go of, Elizabeth."

Her lower lip trembled, but she didn't pull away. "H-He seems to know how much damage he caused you. He seems-"

"He knows nothing!" Will snarled viciously, just mindful enough of the sleeping child across the hall to keep his voice to a whisper. "He knows not a damn thing about what he left behind! How poor we were, how hungry, how desperate we…how desperate **she** was to keep us from being homeless. He never saw how tired she would get or how she'd try to cry in the cold shower, so I didn't hear or how…" The words lodged in his throat as the picture vividly formed as clear as it had been when he was a boy, but he forced them out. "Or how she'd look the few times she'd go up to our landlord's when we were short for the month. She hated it. I knew that much. I didn't know how much until I was older and realized what it had meant when she'd come back down with red eyes, trying to do up the buttons on her blouse when she thought I was asleep. Should I let go of that? Should I forgive him for forcing my mother to prostitute herself to keep a roof over our heads?"

"Will…" she gasped, a tear finally escaping as she reached up to cup his face. He released her, taking a few measured steps back.

"You're a grown woman. If you want to gab and trade gossip with a pathetic cretin who always – without fail – finds a way to hurt anyone near enough to him, I won't stop you, but you're not dragging my kids along. I don't want Lucy to see him if he comes back." He blindly reached for the door and left throwing out as an afterthought, "And my son is not being called William."

Somehow, he made it to his refuge in the shed before his knees buckled and he fell to the hard ground, sucking in hulking breaths of air, fighting to hold himself together until some sense of normalcy returned. As hard as he had worked to make sure Lucy knew none of his early hardships, he had worked doubly to forget the worst of them: his own mother's suffering at his father's indifference. Even as a boy, Will had tried his damnedest to ease her burdens, but it was mostly to no avail. The elder Lucy Turner's heart had been broken beyond repair by a scoundrel, and now, once again, he was being forced to watch as that same man wove his spell around another woman, one he loved just as much.

Instead of going inside to her, though, he hunkered down over his workbench, occupying himself with mundane projects until it was well after midnight, hoping to tire his body enough that his mind could shut down. Sneaking back into the house, he paused outside their bedroom, desperately wanting to take her into his arms. He had discovered holding her at night grounded him in a way few other things had. The strength her mere presence gave him still stunned him and he found himself needing her in a way that dizzied him. Yet when his hand gripped the doorknob, he couldn't turn it. The memory of her glistening eyes as he unloaded on her shamed him.

 _She needs rest_ , he thought, letting go of the door and sulking off to his old bedroom, laying himself flat across the cold mattress and staring up at the ceiling, silently begging for sleep _. She doesn't need you._

It was his mantra throughout his restless night and unforgiving morning. Elizabeth was already gone by the time he was up, going through the motions of fatherhood with Lucy during their morning at the docks, barely able to supervise his team and holing up in his office with paperwork while Lucy drew enough to fill three notebooks. Still unprepared to face his actions from the night before as lunch approached, he called Jack to come bring Lucy to the café. Thankfully, his daughter was oblivious to his distress at the prospect of spending time with her favorite honorary uncle.

The same could not be said for the pirate. After scuttling Lucy along to the nearby break room, Jack pulled Will aside into the office. "What happened?" he asked, looking the younger man up and down.

"Fight," Will replied, trying to trace something on one of the blueprints. "I'm giving her a little distance."

"What'd you squabble over?"

"She knows about Bootstrap. The whole lying since I met her part made it worse,"

"Ah." Jack nodded sagely, savoring his moment. "Did tell you this would happen, hate to say."

"No, you don't."

"True enough, whelp." He clasped a sturdy hand on Will's shoulder. "It'll be alright. Lizzie will forgive you in time."

"Maybe." Glancing sideways, he found Jack's eyebrow raised in question and his chin sunk to his chest. "I yelled at her. Told her things about my past that I shouldn't have. Then on top of that, I demanded she not call the baby William. I'm a real prince, Jack."

"No, you're an emotionally-damaged lad with serious father issues and a burning desire to save the world around you."

"Every woman's dream."

"Well, one at least that we know of. I'll go drop the wee one off with her now whilst you try and grow yourself a decent-sized pair of bollocks, savvy?"

"Thanks." Will sighed, convinced he had left when Jack's voice startled him again from the doorjamb.

"You know, there's nothing wrong with the name William. Known myself a couple of good ones in my time. I personally think Lizzie has excellent taste in this regard."

Will shook his head, thoroughly over trying to explain this. "I want him to have his own future, his own story. He doesn't deserve to be saddled with mine or anyone else's from his bloodline."

"Fair enough, I suppose. Though, I would be quite remiss if I neglected to inform you that you've actually managed to write yourself quite a good story." He bowed in farewell. "Ta."

 _Cheeky bastard_ , Will thought, trying to refocus on his work, all to no avail. Every time he picked up a pencil or tried to talk with one of his employees about a ship, his mind drifted away.

Sometimes it brought him to more painful memories of his mother; others showed him Elizabeth alternately smiling at him with happiness or frowning in disgust. The ones that lingered were the ones that hadn't come to pass yet: the quiet little boy gazing intently at his face before running away from Will in a flurry of unshed tears, his muffled sobbing gutting his paralyzed father.

It was an omen, an engraved future set in granite stone that his son would have to live with, just as he had lived the one his parents had unwittingly carved for him.

Unless – in Jack's words – he grew the bollocks to change it and started being the father his son deserved.

Phase One: Beg Elizabeth's forgiveness, hoping through osmosis that their baby accepted his apology as well.

Phase Two: Eradicate childhood demons fully and completely.

 _Easy as pie_ , he reasoned to himself when he finally gathered the courage to pull his car in front of his house later that night, preparing himself for the worst. Gingerly, he opened the front door to find Elizabeth alone in the kitchen, washing dishes.

The longest journey begins with a mere step. "Hi," he told her, carefully setting his bag down.

"Hello." She gave him a long look up and down. "How was your day?"

"Fine. Yours?"

"The same."

It was awkward and terribly stilted but at least they weren't screaming at each other. "Where's Lucy?"

"Bathroom. I told her we could watch a movie tonight after she took her shower." Turning off the sink, she nodded towards the fridge. "There's dinner in there if you're hungry."

Thinking it best not to push his luck, he simply nodded and started for the hallway. "Thank you. I'm going to get changed first."

"Sure."

 _Well, she's here at least. That's not nothing_. Grabbing a t-shirt and sweats from the bedroom, he headed into the spare to change, flicking on the light. _We'll just have to_ …

Blinking, Will stepped inside and stared into the space where the bed had been just this morning. In its place was the glider he had purchased for Elizabeth yesterday, his true gift to her, forgotten in the harshness of the previous night. Circling it slowly, it took him two turns before he noticed that the entire room was stripped, except for the chair.

"I had Pintel and Ragetti take everything else out when they dropped it off," Elizabeth said from the doorway. He paused in his pacing, watching as she hugged herself tightly. "Figured it would be easier to get ideas for the nursery with a blank canvas. It's all in Jack's basement if there's anything you wanted to save or sell. Thank you, by the way, for the chair. It's lovely."

"You're welcome." Even though it was only feet, it felt like an ocean was separating them. Will knew the only way to the other side was to start paddling across. "I wasn't hiding by coming in here last night. I…I didn't want to make you more upset by invading your space."

She nodded, taking a deep breath before admitting, "I don't like sleeping alone now."

"Me neither."

"It doesn't mean I'm not mad at you, but it does mean that you can't run away because…because I need you in my life. You **are** my life, Will, and that doesn't stop just because we fight." She came in closer, stopping just in front of him. "Short of purposefully harming Lucy or the baby, there isn't anything you could ever do that will make me stop loving you and I know you'd die before either of those ever happened. I just need you to be honest with me. I know that last night was hard-"

"I shouldn't have dumped all that on you, about my childhood and my mum," he hurried to apologize. "I wasn't trying to make you pity me out of being angry. It just came out."

"Because it should have. It needed to come out, like I needed to tell you about my own mother and all my ghastly problems. If we're going to take care of each other, you need to know my pain and I need to know yours."

"Even if it makes me feel weak?"

"Yes. That way, when it's my turn to completely fall to pieces, you'll be healed and strong enough to hold me up."

"That'll never happen. There's nothing in this world that will shatter Elizabeth Swann." He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, almost shuddering when she kissed his palm.

"Alright then, I've told you what I need from you. Now you tell me what you need in regard to your…to Bootstrap."

It wasn't something he needed to ponder over. "Don't ever trap me with him or arrange for us to reconcile. I'm not interested."

"I understand."

"He's not allowed in the house."

"Okay."

"I can't pretend I enjoy it, but like I said, if you want to speak to him, that's your business. I don't want either of the kids to have any type of relationship with him, though. I won't have their disappointment in him on my conscious."

Her nod this time was slower. "Okay."

"And I can't give the baby his name."

Biting her lip, Elizabeth wrapped her arms in a circle around his neck, pulling him close enough to breathe her in for the first time in almost two days. Such was his relief that he almost didn't hear her say, "No."

"You really still think that I can-?"

"When I dream about him, it's the only thing I call him," she said softly, leaning in until her stomach brushed against his. "I'll see him trying to sneak sweets out of the kitchen or drawing on the walls of Lucy's room and I'll say, 'William Something Turner, you stop that right now'. It's how I know him, my mischievous little boy that looks so much like his father." She smiled ruefully. "But he's not just mine. He's yours and I can't have you suffering every time you say his name."

"What's the solution then?"

"Compromise. I'll let you pick the Something."

"What?"

"His middle name. You choose his middle name and that's what we'll call him by." Cocking her head, she regarded him. "What do you think?"

That it wasn't perfect, but nothing in the world was. To give him something he needed, she was giving up something return. He owed her the same. "Sounds good."

"I do get consulting rights, though."

"Naturally." Mustering his courage, he pressed in for a kiss when Lucy ran into the room, wet hair dripping and her pajamas on inside out.

"Come on! I want to watch the movie!" She took Elizabeth's hand and started pulling her out. "And pie! You said we could have pie!"

"I did. A nice big slice of banoffee pie." She smirked slightly. "It's Daddy's favorite."

"I love you," he mouthed to her, his own hand over his heart, finally feeling his chest unfurl when she winked in return.

By the time he showered and changed, the movie was already underway, and he climbed on the bed to join them, Lucy in between himself and Elizabeth with dessert.

"Try it, Daddy," she said, holding up a spoonful of pie for him. "It's really good."

He took his bite, nearly moaning in delight at both the taste and the adorably nervous baker waiting for his verdict. "Best thing I've ever had," he told them both before they all settled in under the covers with their treats and each other.

The movie – a strange Halloween/Christmas hybrid stop-motion that was surprisingly good – was halfway through when Elizabeth sat up a little straighter and gasped, putting her hand on her belly. "Oh, he's really moving."

"Can I feel?" Lucy asked before Will could.

"Sure, go ahead." Elizabeth guided Lucy's hand over her, then reached over to do the same with Will, squeezing his slightly.

All three waited with bated breath, the movie continuing in the background for a few moments, until Will felt the tiniest poke against his palm, sending a shot of euphoria racing through him. "Hey," he whispered, jaw dropping slightly as his son finally introduced himself. "There you are."

"That's him?" Lucy frowned, studying Elizabeth's stomach. "Does it hurt you, him kicking?"

"No, poppet, it feels wonderful." Her free hand lightly traced Will's scalp. "Right?"

"Right," he replied, unable to meet her eyes, too focused on the wonder going on inside her.

Eventually, Lucy and Elizabeth returned to the movie, but Will couldn't pull himself away, enthralled with every twitch and quiver he felt. It wasn't until the DVD shut off that he came back to Earth, finding both his ladies fast asleep. Moving his hand from her stomach to her face, Will gently trailed his fingers across Elizabeth's silken skin, taking her in and letting the peace she had brought into his life crystalize in his mind until the future was there in front of him.

"Marry me." She didn't stir, her eyelids fluttering the only indication she had heard a sound. When another minute passed without her waking, he tried again, raising his voice slightly. "Elizabeth? Elizabeth, will you-?"

A finger to his lips stopped him and he looked down to see his daughter frowning, eyes only half-open. "Daddy, we're sleeping."

"I know, I just-"

"It's very rude to try to wake someone when they're sleeping."

Will sighed, resigned, and shifted back to lie down. "Yes, you are correct. Goodnight."

"Night," Lucy mumbled, immediately nodding off, oblivious to what she had stopped her father from doing.

It was another sleepless night for him, only this one was filled with hope instead of dread; planning instead agonizing. Even though he would have loved to secure Elizabeth's answer snuggled in bed with her and his daughter, a marriage proposal should be something more, especially for Elizabeth. She deserved one she could talk about for years to come, not one that had hastily come about in the middle of the night. There needed to be candles, flowers, romantic music, maybe even fireworks in he could swing the pyrotechnics.

And a ring. He needed a ring fit for royalty.

If only he had the foggiest idea about jewelry.

His options for help were limited: Bria would immediately tell Elizabeth; Jack would take him somewhere liable to be raided by law enforcement or robbed by a gang; Gibbs would just tell Jack, who would go straight to Elizabeth; Pintel, Ragetti, and the others in their crew were useless when it came to matters of taste. That left Anamaria as his only choice.

 _If I tell her how important this is to me, she'll keep quiet_ , Will thought at work the next day, his phone ringing loudly in his pocket. _And if not, Jack would be very interested in learning what really happened to his signed Rolling Stone vinyl._

It seemed kismet when his caller ID showed her name. "Hey," he answered. "I was just thinking about you. Can I-?"

"Will, listen." The quiet timber of her voice stopped him, his eyes narrowing. "You told me to call right away if anyone came around here looking for Elizabeth."

He scowled, immediately searching for his keys, cursing Elizabeth's own bastard father and the man's incessant interference that did nothing to his daughter, except cause her more distress. "And who did the esteemed Weatherby Swann send this time?"

"No one. He's in here in the flesh."


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Happy New Year everyone! Time for drama! Not going to lie, this chapter has a lot of it and it's only the beginning of some not-so-fun times ahead. Once again, this is all self-edited so please forgive any errors and I hope you all enjoy this. Let me know what you think if you the time and inclination, I lvoe hearing from you guys! Happy reading!**

* * *

"You look beautiful."

Elizabeth said nothing to her father's declaration. Her head was still spinning at his very appearance in the café. One minute, she had been counting raisins with Lucy to put in a batch of cinnamon bread, the next she had been called out front by one of the baristas to find her father standing at the register, his dark suit pressed and James Norrington hovering behind him at the door. After a painful moment of silence, he had asked to speak with her privately and she wordlessly led him back to Anamaria's cramped office, ignoring her friend's searching eyes.

Now alone, she found all the things she had longed to say (and scream and cry) at him over the past months couldn't come out as she stood across from him, arms folded, bracing herself against his onslaught of disappointment.

Except instead of an attack, he smiled softly at her with such tenderness that it took her back to reading on his lap in the study on Christmas Eve when she was only seven, the fire roaring away as snow fell outside. It was terribly off-putting because she knew deep down, she was supposed to hate him for all the turmoil he had caused her with his aloofness.

Even if he was her father.

"This seems like a lovely little shop you've found for yourself," he tried again when she didn't reply. "The butter scones smelled heavenly. It reminds me of when you used to-"

"Why are you here?" Elizabeth finally asked.

"I'm expected in Brazil for meetings regarding trade negations with-"

"I mean, why are you here in the café?"

He blinked in confusion. "Because I wanted to see you."

"Why?" she repeated, her voice starting to gain strength, even if her heart was still conflicted. "I haven't been much of a priority for you as of late."

"That isn't true."

"I'm near carpal tunnel syndrome from all the unanswered letters I've written you, not to mention how much I'm spending on transatlantic phone calls that you can't even bother to pick up."

"I'll be happy to reimburse the costs, you know that. Just give me the-"

"You abandoned me." Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and she angrily swiped them away, backing up when he reached for her. "I don't give two fucks about the money, I care that you left me on my own during the scariest period of my entire life."

"Elizabeth…"

"I know you're traditional and I committed the apparently unforgiveable crime of fornication outside the confines of marriage, but I can't believe you would just cut me off like this. Was I that much of a disappointment? I really brought that much shame onto you that you would-?"

"Elizabeth, please." He stepped forward, gently taking her shoulders, his sad smile stopping her cold this time. "The only one who should be ashamed is me."

The reverent tone of his voice didn't douse the flames of her anger, but it did blanket them enough that her rant died away.

 _Damn him_.

"When James told me of the pregnancy and then when you told me you wanted to keep the baby, I was in shock. The only thing I could think of was all that you were losing, all that you were sacrificing. It never occurred to me until after you left, when I'd while my free time away staring at pictures of you as a little girl, all that you were actually gaining."

She held her ground, waiting for him to continue; waiting for him to disappoint and crush her.

"I read every one of your letters, just so you know, and I listened to your phone messages. I ached to respond-"

"Then why the hell didn't you?"

"-but I was too stubborn. I thought somehow if I held back, it would make you angry enough to come home and confront me and then, perhaps, there was a chance you'd…you'd stay." He laughed bitterly to himself. "I was such a doddering fool. Finally, when I was certain you wouldn't want to see me yourself, I sent James here to try to convince you in person to come back."

"With Beckett."

"Yes." He swallowed heavily. "That man...You'll never have to see or hear from him again."

"Good."

"After what happened, what he did to you, it was clear there was no way you would ever forgive me. Even on the plane here, I still…" For the first time in years, since they had laid the late Etta Swann to rest, she saw tears break through his eyes. "But you're my only child. I can't bear the thought of losing you completely, no matter how much I may deserve it. If there is any chance, any hope, I could still be a part of your life, Elizabeth, I am begging you for it."

It shouldn't be this easy for him. He had conditioned her to need his love and approval to survive, then ripped it away without hesitation, leaving her wounded to the darkest parts of her soul. If she were stronger, she would have made him sink to his knees before spitting on him and walking away. As she had proven time and again, though, she wasn't the fierce woman Will believed her to be.

Especially when she had to witness her father's heartbreak.

Gently, she leaned in until they were enfolded in each other's arms. "This doesn't make everything better," she sniffled. "You have a great a deal to make up for, Father."

"And I will spend my days doing so." He squeezed her tighter and Elizabeth felt herself smile a little before another thought occurred.

"You also realize that making things right means making some kind of relationship with Will, don't you?"

"I do."

"I'm afraid you haven't made a very good first impression with him."

"Nor he with me, by impregnating my only daughter before he ever took her on a proper date."

"Father!" She pulled back, anger welling anew within her. "Do not make me choose between my son's father and my own. I don't think you'll be pleased with the result."

He studied her carefully. "You are happy with him, here in this place? Truly?"

"More then I've ever been." Out of habit, she straightened his crisp blue tie. "The only thing that could make me happier is having you back. Please, you have to try with Will. He's a good man, one you'd be proud to see me with." Elizabeth looked deep into his eyes. "Mum would have loved him."

With a sigh, her father nodded. "Then if he's willing to give me a second chance, I owe him the same. For you, my dear."

"Thank you."

"I've arranged to take some meetings here on the island until I have to leave in a few days. I'd be delighted if I could take you and your young man to dinner before I go."

"I'll check with him. We'll try to-" A loud crash from outside cut her off and she hurried off, wondering what mischief Lucy had gotten into.

Instead of being in the kitchen, Lucy had wandered into the café. She was perched sedately on a stool at the counter with Felix and munching on a sandwich, watching along with Elizabeth as Gibbs righted the table he had overturned when he had skidded into the café behind Jack, the pair of them breathing heavily and eyeing a bewildered James with total disdain.

"Hi, Captain Jack!" Lucy waved a merry hello, oblivious to the sudden tension in the room.

Rolling her eyes at the men, she turned back to her father. "It might be better if you left before Will sends anyone else here to check on me."

"Of course." He pecked her cheek before sidling around her. However, instead of going towards James, he stopped in front of Lucy, extending his hand to her. "You must be Lucy Turner. My name is Weatherby Swann. I'm Elizabeth's father."

"Oh, hello. It's nice to meet you," she said with a full mouth of peanut butter and jelly, snickering a little. "You have a funny name."

"That I do, young lady."

"How come Elizabeth's been here so long and you haven't come to see her before?"

 _From the mouths of babes_ , Elizabeth thought, cringing a little at Lucy's boldness, hoping her father wouldn't be put off.

Ever the diplomat, Weatherby simply nodded. "Unfortunately, I've been very busy with my very boring job until now, but I hope to make that up to her."

"That's good. She's the bestest person in the whole world."

"That she is." He glanced down at the stuffed animal. "And who is your friend here?"

"This is Felix."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." He gave the toy a mock bow, shooting Elizabeth a small smile. "Do you know when Elizabeth was a girl, she had a stuffed ducky that she took everywhere?"

"Really? What was his name?"

"Phillip," Elizabeth answered, nearly bursting with joy at the sight of her father being so sweet with Lucy.

"Phillip Reginald Ducksworth the Eighth," Weatherby corrected, "and he never left her side, even at bath time. Perhaps, if we see each other again, I can tell you lots of wonderful stories about Elizabeth." He bowed again more formally to Lucy. "Good day to you, Miss Turner."

"Good day, sir." She got down to curtsey, to the delight of nearly all, even if Jack and Gibbs still kept a close watch over James.

Weatherby simply offered them all a nod in farewell as he left with his aide, only startling slightly when they nearly crashed into a sweating Pintel and Ragetti in the doorway. When the visitors finally left, the café started humming back to normal, Anamaria shooting her an apologetic shrug as she hustled her man and his friends away from the fuming baker.

"Your daddy seems really nice," Lucy told her as she hopped back on her stool, her attention back on her lunch.

"Yes, I know, poppet," Elizabeth said, staring down Will's friends as they all found their shoes very interesting. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her phone from her pocket and hit speed dial for Will's number.

"Hello?" Will answered immediately, the sound of the busy dock in the background. "Elizabeth, I'm on-"

"You can stay at work. My father just left."

"Oh."

"If there's anyone else coming, you can call them off. Anamaria wouldn't want them all destroying her business for the day."

"Look, I just-"

"We'll talk later at home," she told him, hanging up before he could reply.

Their "later" turned out to be during Elizabeth's shower that night. In the middle of washing her hair, she heard Will enter the bathroom.

"Can we talk now?"

"Is Lucy asleep?"

"Yeah." He paused and she watched his shadow shuffle behind the curtain. "May I come in?"

"Sure," she said, telling herself that she was still angry with him and that she wouldn't let his nakedness distract her.

A moment later, he joined her, his hands tentatively settling on her hips, making her bite down on her lip to hold in a moan. His fingertips were lethal when he wanted them to be, even when she almost couldn't stand to look at him. "What did your father want?" Will asked over the rushing water.

"To see me. To try and make amends for…" she shuddered as her skin prickled deliciously from his soft lips, weakening her further, "everything, I suppose."

"Is that what you want?"

Turning to rinse the suds from her hair, she met his eye and nodded. "Yes."

"Why? Why would you want someone like him in your life?"

"Because he's my father, Will." She maneuvered them again until he was under the spray, pouring another dollop of shampoo into her palm and working it gently through Will's own locks. "I know that's a difficult subject for you and I'm trying to be sensitive about how I handle this. I just can't cut him out completely because he had an awful reaction to the baby."

He reveled in her ministrations for a bit before saying, "For the record, he didn't have a reaction. He tried to manipulate you into having an abortion."

"I know."

"If he'd had his way, you wouldn't be pregnant right now. You wouldn't be here with me."

"I know," she repeated, swallowing heavily. The idea of either was unfathomable to her. Letting herself be comforted by running her hands through his long hair, she tried to explain, "I have good memories of him. There were times when it wasn't difficult to love him or be his child. I wish more than anything you had had that with Bootstrap, but I won't let your past dictate how I can feel about my own father."

They stayed still for quite a while; staring each other down, neither given an inch until Will took her into his arms with great care, the thick steam and his masculine scent a heady combination that was slowly pulling her under until his lips brushed her ear.

"Your father," he said purposefully, "sent a man here to take you away from me; a man that put his hands on you; a man that scared you so badly I nearly killed him in broad daylight. I won't be forgiving Weatherby Swann for that anytime soon."

"I'm not asking you to," she murmured, wishing they could escape the chaos of the last week and return to that blissful state of unencumbered love. "All I'm asking is for you to try to find a way to be in a room with him for a few hours so that **I** can have him back. Come to dinner with us. He'll meet you and see how wonderful you are. Once he understands how mad I am for you, he'll see that there's no way for him to have me without you by my side."

"You are quite possibly the most impossible woman…" He traced her cheek with the back of his hand, letting it glide all the way down to her stomach, finally smiling a little when the baby moved. "I can't promise I'm not going to say or do something incredibly stupid when I'm face to face with him," he warned.

Her heart soared so high, she could feel it well in her eyes. He was going to try. He loved her enough that he was going to try to help her mend a relationship with someone he considered inferior. "Well, if it makes you feel better, he's not your biggest fan either. You did get his only daughter up the duff, after all."

"Oh, she helped plenty with that."

"Did she, now?" Elizabeth pecked his lips several times before he managed to draw her into a blazing kiss. They tried pressing closer together against the far wall, only managing to knock bottles and soap to floor with a clatter. She laughed heartily along with him as they regained their balance. "We **are** impossible, the pair of us, trying to shag in this wet shoebox."

"Yeah, I know." Will looked around with a rueful eye. "It is too small in here. This whole house is."

"None of that," she said, putting a finger to his lips to head off another sulk about all the things he thought he couldn't provide her. "This house is perfect. I love it more than you sometimes."

He smirked, turning her to wash her back but taking the chance to cradle her belly again. "We'll see if you're still saying that when all his gear takes this place over," he replied as his soapy hands began to give her more than just a thorough cleaning, words falling away and their love taking control.

Their next few days were spent trying to keep the stress of the dinner out of sight. Elizabeth spent her time working and helping Lucy mail out invitations for her birthday party. It was the first one she would have with friends her own age, so she was being meticulous in the crafting of every card that got sent. Helping her was a welcome distraction for Elizabeth, both from the evening with her father and the upcoming baby shower being planned behind her back. Neither Anamaria or Bria were giving anything away and that left Elizabeth with only memories of all the elaborate, ostentatious parties her friend had thrown over the years. At best she'd be perched on a throne surrounded by storks; at worst…well, Elizabeth knew Bria had no shame about bringing exotic male dancers to any occasion. The only thing keeping her from calling the whole affair off was that Will seemed to be in on the planning. She had caught him sneaking conversations with Anamaria outside the house twice and had even overheard the other woman on the phone with him in a hushed conversation at the café. Even if she hadn't been able to hear the words, the fact that Will was involved eased her worry.

He wouldn't let her be humiliated. He'd protect from that.

He'd protect her from anything.

She hoped she could do the same for him regarding her father's sure-to-be pointed questions.

When the night finally arrived, Elizabeth was waiting impatiently for Will to be done in the loo, fastening her earrings in the bedroom when Lucy wandered in. Fresh from a quick bath and already dressed in her pajamas for a sleepover at Jack and Anamaria's, she was also wearing an adorable pout on her face.

"Are you really going to be gone all night?"

"Yes, but I promise it's just going to be a grown-up dinner with my father that you'd find quite dull, especially when you get a chance to play with Captain Jack at his house. I bet you can convince him to make a sea fort in his living room to sleep in." Done with her jewelry, she presented herself for inspection, showing off the dark navy dress that was far more sedate than anything she had been wearing lately. "How do I look?"

"Very pretty." Lucy batted her green eyes pleadingly. "Can you make my hair all curly for tomorrow before you go? Please?"

"Auntie Ana would be happy to do…" Her firmness and fear of being tardy melted away when Lucy turned her lower lip almost inside out. Shaking her head at herself, Elizabeth grabbed the brush and hair ties, pointing to the bed. "Alright then. But you really have to clean your teeth tonight, not just for pretend."

"Okay!" They sat in silence has Elizabeth began sectioning her hair into pieces to plait and tie up. "Is your Daddy going to move here now so he can see you all the time?"

"I don't think so. He has a very important job in London. Hopefully, he'll be able to come for more visits or I can fly there sometime to see him. You'd love London, you know."

"Maybe we can go there for Christmas."

"To see all the trees, right poppet?" Instantly, Elizabeth thought of the birthday present she herself was working on for Lucy, tucked safely in a drawer in Anamaria's office, away from everyone's prying eyes, including Will's.

"Uh-huh. Christmas trees are the best: you put something from outside into your house, make it all pretty and sparkly, and then Santa comes to put presents underneath it for you! It's the best magic in the world!"

Elizabeth pressed a kiss into her damp blonde hair, smiling. What had she done with herself before Lucy? How had she seen anything as being delightful or funny before this little girl came to show her what had been missing in her world for so long?

 _You are worth more than any silver or gold, sweet girl_.

"Well, if we can't go there, we'll have to get one for here and make it the biggest, most beautiful Christmas tree in recorded history," she promised. Tying off the last braid, she secured them all into a bun on top of Lucy's head. "There we go. Not too tight, is it?"

"It's fine." Lucy looked back over her shoulder with a crooked grin. "I'm really glad you're going to be with me for Christmas this year."

Elizabeth nuzzled her nose in between Lucy's eyebrows. "Me too."

"Me three," Will chimed in from the doorway.

"Good because I…" Her voice failed her as she took him in, eyes widening in shock. "W-What did you do to-?"

"Daddy!" Lucy exclaimed, standing up on the bed while Elizabeth supported her. "Where did all your hair go?!"

A self-conscious blush spread across Will's now clean-shaven face. When he reached back to scratch at his neck, Elizabeth saw that his long hair was shorn as well. It seemed neither she nor Lucy could say anything else. After another beat of their astonished silence, Will picked up Lucy and settled her on his hip. "I just wanted to try something new. Is it really bad?"

"No." Her small hands squeezed his cheeks together. "It's…different. You're not all prickly anymore."

"Yeah? I'll take it." He kissed her braided crown and set her on the floor, swatting her rear lightly. "Go get your bag together. We're leaving in a few minutes."

With Lucy gone, Elizabeth stood, smoothing his dress shirt and straightening his tie. Lucy was right: he did look different. More boyish and innocent, but still handsome enough to make her wish they could spend their evening doing something else.

"What brought all this on?"

"I guess I figured that…I don't know." He shrugged, throwing his dinner jacket on and playing with the cuffs. "Maybe he won't be completely put off if I show up looking somewhat respectable. Might make the night easier."

Sighing, she ran her fingers through his short hair, tugging his head gently closer to hers. "I don't deserve you," she whispered when their foreheads touched.

"Got that backwards, luv."

 _Please accept him, Father_ , she silently prayed while they shared a chaste kiss. _There's no other man I could even look at after knowing him._

After dropping Lucy, they spent an uncomfortable ride in the back of the car her father had sent for them trying to make small talk. Will had obviously never been in a limo before and she could see how it rattled him while most of her other thoughts were consumed with willing this meeting to go well. She'd be spilt in two otherwise. The only thing keeping her grounded was his hand in hers; it was probably the same for him. Even as they were led inside Panas (the only true elegant dining experience on the island), their hands were glued together.

"It'll be fine," Elizabeth heard herself whisper when she spotted her father sitting at a table in the back.

At their arrival, Weatherby rose stiffly to greet them. After an awkward pause when none of them could decide what to do, Elizabeth stepped forward to kiss her father's cheek.

"Hello, my dear," he greeted her warmly. Eyeing Will up and down with sharp focus, Weatherby finally addressed the young man. "How do you do, Mr. Turner?"

"Good evening, sir," Will replied formally. Neither man extended their hand, instead both reaching to help Elizabeth into her chair.

 _I'm going to have a nervous breakdown before the appetizers are served_ , she thought, barely holding back a tired sigh as they settled in with their menus and the maître d personally walked them through the evening's selections, eager to please such a prestigious guest as a European diplomat. Elizabeth only half-listened, her gaze on Will and his stiff jaw. Luxury was so unnatural for him, especially in a place where he had once worked with many of the people serving them now.

That he was enduring all this for her meant everything. So long as the night didn't end in an emotional firestorm, she'd be sure to show her appreciation later.

"I'm very glad you were willing to come here tonight," her father told her after the waiter finally took their orders. "The both of you."

"Thank you for having us, Father."

When the silence lapsed again, her father turned to her. "I meant to ask you before: you're receiving adequate care in regard to…to the pregnancy?"

"Yes, my midwife is wonderful. She actually helped deliver Will's daughter."

Instantly, she cursed her wayward tongue. She hadn't meant to bring Lucy up so quickly. If her father dared to imply anything negative about her, Will would flip the table.

Her father seemed to sense her unease and spoke evenly, "I met her at the café, Mr. Turner. She's a delightful little girl."

"Yes, she truly is," Elizabeth replied when Will remained silent. "She's the sweetest thing in the world. We were talking as I was getting ready and she just loves Christmas trees right now."

"You'll be a formidable team during the holidays then." He smiled warmly at her before turning his attention back to Will. "My daughter loves few things more than holiday decorating. No room in our home was safe from her Christmas spirit."

"I'll keep that in my mind come December." Will's mouth stayed in a straight line. "Perhaps we can send you a picture of the house that you won't bother to reply to."

 _Oh, please no_ , she thought, feeling the walls close in around her. _Please don't do this._

"Will…" she reproached quietly. His eyes were apologetic yet resolute. "You said you'd try."

"And I was planning on it, until we came here and he started speaking as if the last several months didn't happen. As if he didn't ignore you and hurt you and make you suffer to satisfy his own ego. As if he wanted our son born from the start." He faced her father again, his face a mask of righteous fury while his voice never rose an octave. "You're right, sir. My daughter is delightful. Being her father is the greatest privilege I've ever known and there's not a thing she could ever say or do that would make me treat her the way you treated yours."

Elizabeth stared down at the delicate china, forcing her tears to the back of her throat, waiting for her father to explode at Will's impertinence.

Weatherby took a long sip of red wine before he answered. "The apology is owed to my daughter. I've given it to her and I will do so every hour of every day for all of time if that's what **she** needs to heal what harm I've caused. Forgive me, though, if I do not feel I owe one to the man that bedded her for a night and upended every aspect of her life. Tell me, my good sir, if a man did that to your delightful daughter, would he earn the courtesy of your respect? Would you be able to break bread with him across a table and resist the urge to beat him bloody for taking your Lucy thousands of miles away from you before he had even had the good manners of introducing himself properly?"

Will said nothing. Elizabeth dared to look up a fraction and found both men locked in a silent battle. If there was ever any hope to bring the two of them together, one of them would have to relent first.

Who could do it?

Who could put her above their pride?

It shouldn't have surprised her who broke the stalemate.

"I wish," Will spoke, slowly and with an unwavering gaze, "that I could have had a proper relationship with Elizabeth; one where I could have courted her, earned her affection and her trust before we decided to have a child together because a woman like her deserves nothing except respect and honor. You'll never meet a man who loves a woman more than I love her. There's nothing tawdry or unseemly about what I feel." Elizabeth watched the left side of his jaw clench slightly. "However, if I were sitting in your chair and Lucy was sitting in Elizabeth's, I suppose there's a chance I'd…react poorly to the situation before I knew all the facts."

Paying no mind to her father, she reached over for Will's hand, enfolding it back in hers. Nothing about this evening was easy for him and yet, he was here.

For her.

All the years she had cursed that dubious goddess Fate for a life that had felt beyond her control and all the while it had been leading her to that barstool at the Black Pearl for Will to find.

She was truly blessed.

Her father followed her hand's path to Will's and lingered there for a moment before he replied in kind.

"I have never claimed to be a perfect man or a perfect father. After her mother's passing, Elizabeth became my world. Perhaps I held her too close and that made it hard to let her go. She rightfully rebelled against it, her mother's daughter in every way." He offered her an affectionate half-smile. "We won't resolve our differences tonight, Mr. Turner. I understand that. My hope is that we can at least come to a common ground, one where the interests of Elizabeth and the baby take centerstage."

Will nodded thoughtfully, still unable or unwilling to smile. "I think we can work towards that."

Elizabeth felt her heart unfurl. They would never be best friends, her father and her love, but if they could coexist, she could keep them both, her past and her future.

She could have her whole family.

Smiling to herself as her soup arrived, she took a cautious bite and savored the taste of lemon broth that melted the tension from her tongue.

"So, it appears that I'm being fortunate enough to be welcoming a grandson then?"

Elizabeth grinned wider at the hopeful expression on her father's face. "Yes, indeed. Just as I predicted."

"Have you decided on a name yet?"

"No, not yet," Will replied, his voice beginning to lose the harsh timber. "We're taking our time. It's an important decision."

"Oh, no doubt. The most important of all, according to your mother, dear." He smiled fondly again. "Of course, for her, she knew the moment you were a girl that you were her precious Elizabeth, until I got to hold you in my arms and then you were mine as well."

"Speaking of Mum, did you know that Will is working for a man who knew her in America?"

"Really? What a small world indeed. Who?"

"Hank DeMarcus," Will supplied, glancing down at his silverware. Elizabeth watched his eyes flicker over the abundance of utensils before he settled on the soup spoon. She offered a subtle nod and he gave her his first genuine smile of the night. "He started a restoration and shipbuilding company down here. I'm running the warehouse for him."

"DeMarcus…DeMarcus…" Weatherby searched his memory before he nodded. "Ah, yes. The lad her parents fostered when she was a teenager. She always had very nice things to say about him. Turned out to be quite the brilliant investor."

"He has wonderful stories and pictures of Mum."

"I hope I get a chance to see some of them soon."

The rest of the evening past in pleasant reminisces and only a few embarrassing stories of Elizabeth's formative years. There were no more fireworks, no threat of fisticuffs. It was simply a dinner, hopefully the first of many in the coming years. After bidding her father a fond farewell – this one with the promise of more visits and phone calls to come – Elizabeth cuddled into Will's side in the limo, sighing happily.

It was…well, perfect wasn't the right word, but it had gone much better than either of them storming out and leaving her to pick up the pieces of her sanity.

There was the hope and promise of a tomorrow. She'd gladly take it.

"Alright, luv?" Will breathed into her scalp. He held her securely, but not tightly; always keeping her safe yet never choking her freedom.

"No." She tilted her head up to kiss him soundly, climbing fully onto his lap before reaching blindly behind her to close the privacy screen between them and the driver. "I'm positively wonderful."

"Seriously?" His ears started to burn, even as his hands settled low on her hips. "In a limo? Good Lord, maybe Bria's not the only nymphomaniac in your friendship."

"Well, forgive me but this is your fault." With a hard tug, she loosened his tie, pressing her lips to his neck and sucking gently, feeling his pulse kick and her own breath start to come out in pants as his finger wandered up the hem of her dress.

"M-Mine?"

"Yes. You're entirely too good at shagging, you know."

They made love in the limo, then in the living room at home before they collapsed in bed for a spell. Listening to him exhale softly, feeling that heartbeat against her cheek, she closed her eyes, secure in the knowledge – nay, the certainty – that it beat for her.

* * *

Sleep was elusive for Will that night. If it wasn't Elizabeth's luscious mouth tracing a path over his body in between her own fits of rest, the dinner with Weatherby Swann played through his mind on a constant loop. On the surface, it had gone as well as could be expected: there were harsh words, yes, but no one had come to blows; Elizabeth looked like she was breathing for the first time in days; and it seemed that the elder Swann had gained some small measure of respect for him. All in all, Will should be pleased how everything had turned out.

Yet whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was the coldness in Weatherby's own as he had described Elizabeth's birth:

" _Then you were mine as well."_

Elizabeth had been too caught up to notice, but Will had clearly seen the subtle shift in the other man's gaze flicker to his as he spoke those words; a kind of warning that Will would do well to pay heed to going forward, if only he could wrap his mind around it.

With Lucy, he adored telling people that she was his daughter because his girl was clever, sweet, and all together enchanting in every way. He spoke of her with pride simply in having a small hand in creating someone like her. However, it wasn't appreciative boasting that Will had heard in Weatherby's voice, but rather possession. Because Elizabeth Swann belonged to Weatherby and damn anyone who dared contradict that. What Elizabeth saw as loving affection, Will read as nothing more than ownership, a claim that only a fool would challenge. There was nothing perverted or sexual about the possession. If Will had to guess, Weatherby viewed his daughter as he would a fine mare or a castle estate in the Highlands. She was something first and foremost for the world to measure **him** by, her own wants and needs never arising as anything more than a nuisance if they stood in the way of what he wanted her to be.

Like right now, for instance. Having a baby and sharing a bed with an unrefined island dweller were most certainly not in the cards for that man's daughter. Will was nothing more than an obstacle that Weatherby Swann was trying to work around. He was a chess player, studying the board before he made his next move: when the escorts he had sent weeks ago didn't bring her back to London, he had simply bided his time; waited patiently until Elizabeth was desperate for some type of resolution; then swooped in with loving glances and all the right phrases to win her back into his fold.

Deep down, Will knew how strong Elizabeth was. If it were any other person trying to manipulate her, he'd sit back and wait for the fireworks to start, but this wasn't just anyone.

This was her father.

 _If there was anyone who knew how emotionally damaging a father could be…_ Will thought as he finally fell into a fitful sleep.

By the time he opened his eyes, Elizabeth was already out of bed and in the loo. Needing a little more time to put his head back together after a night of overthinking, he dressed quickly and walked the short distance across the sand to get Lucy from Jack's. Only when he arrived, he was greeted with an unusual sight.

"Hi, Daddy!" Lucy said from the coffee table, her eyes glued to Jack's hand as she carefully applied bright pink nail polish to his fingers.

Will's eyes swung back and forth between them a few times in confusion. "Explain, please."

"Wut?" Jack grumbled. "Wee one got bored with colorin' books. Wanted to give me a haircut, like yours, but I told her I didn't want to look like a complete pouncey eunuch."

"Language," he reprimanded, scratching his head again, still uncomfortable. He felt like a twelve-year-old without his goatee and long hair, although Elizabeth most definitely hadn't been treating him like one.

'Sides, lil' polish just means I'm one of them mitrosexual blokes that buxom young models fancy."

"Maybe," Anamaria chimed in, coming up behind Lucy and covering her ears. "You'd have to find one into necrophilia, though."

"Aw, the wench leaves her lair of pretty pictures." He raised an eyebrow to the red mark on her hand. "Were you careless with them chemicals again or did you stumble into a holy man with blessed water?"

When her eyes started glowing with fire, Will took his cue from his years of living with them to take her by the elbow and lead her into the kitchen. "Neutral corners, children. What happened this time?"

"Nothing, that's the point. I had a headache last night, so he had to deal with blue balls. He's such a child sometimes."

"And you love being his favorite nanny." While Anamaria got out mugs for coffee, Will gently checked her hand. "You want any ointment for that?"

"I'm good, thanks." With a small smirk, she used two fingers to tap a spot on his neck. "You want something for yours or do you want to have an adult conversation with your daughter?"

Blushing, Will grabbed a cold compress from the freezer, rubbing it gently across the love bite Elizabeth had given him. "Suppose things got a little…intense last night," he mumbled to the ground.

"Is that what the kids are calling hot sex nowadays?"

"Shut it," he said, swatting her with a dishtowel. "It was a lot for her, that's all. She was nervous about everything going well."

"And did it?" At Will's silence, she pressed on. "Spill. Lucy's gonna get bored again and Jack will throw a fit if she tries to do his eye make-up."

As quickly as he could, he recapped the dinner, explaining the vibe Weatherby had given off and how uneasy it had made him feel. When he was finally finished, Anamaria leaned a hip against the counter, deep in thought. "What do you think?"

She took a long sip of coffee. "It's early. Let me process."

"Okay, well while you're doing that, can you help me come with a way to break this to Elizabeth?"

After another drink, she finally looked at him straight on. "Before I say this, let me reiterate that I'm very pro-honesty when it comes to relationships in general, but in this case…" Anamaria huffed inwardly. "Are you absolutely sure you want to tell her?"

"Yeah," Will replied with a drawl of obviousness. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because what if you're wrong? What if you read his little looks wrong and he's not trying to take her away?"

"You think I invented it all in my head?"

"No, but I think you're a guy with abnormally painful trust issues regarding fathers so your threshold for thinking the worst of this guy was already pretty low. Add to that what he put Elizabeth through since the baby announcement and I'm actually impressed that you let him leave with all his teeth in his mouth."

"This is unbelievable," he scoffed. Anamaria was rational to a fault. If anyone would be able to understand the seriousness of the situation, he would have thought it would be her. Instead she was just brushing him off like it was nothing. "I'm supposed to hide from the mother of my son that her father wants neither of them to be around me? That's your advice?"

"Look, all I'm saying is you were never alone with him. He didn't try to slip you a bag of cash to shove you out of the picture or threaten you or anyone else if you didn't walk away. It's your two-hour dinner with him versus her twenty-plus years. If you go to Elizabeth with your gut instincts, what kind of position is that going to put her in? Her father will deny it all, you'll look petulant, and she'll still be caught in the middle of you two. It's a no-win situation, especially for her."

Will dug his fingers around the compress, pressing it tighter against his skin. Now that her rationality was rearing its head, he wished he hadn't asked her opinion since it had so thoroughly weakened his own. Everything she said was true, especially about upsetting Elizabeth again.

 _Maybe she's right_ , he thought miserably. _My judgement is a bit skewed…_

Only then he remembered Weatherby's venomous eyes, boring into his own as if they were actually trying to poison him and he knew he wasn't wrong.

He just wasn't sure how to prove it without hurting Elizabeth.

"This is not a good man," Will said, leaning back wearily against the fridge. "If he's around us, I can feel deep down he's going to do something to interfere with our lives. How am I supposed to get Elizabeth to see that before it's too late?"

"By trusting her. The same way that she trusted you by coming out here to begin with."

"I do and I want to with this, but Bria said he's had this…this control over her ever since she was a teenager." He finally pulled the compress away, rolling it between his hands. "What's going to be different this time from all the others that he got her to submit to him?"

Before Anamaria answered, Lucy's boisterous laugh carried into the room. His friend smiled gently. "Because now she has people in her life that are more important than him. Besides," she continued as she gathered fruit, pulling a large carving knife out of the block and studying it, "he ever tries anything, there's going to be a wall of misfits he has to conquer first." She slammed the knife down sharply, hacking an orange in half with a loud whack.

"You are extremely frightening sometimes."

"You know it, _mi hijo_." She blew him a loud kiss. "Go bring your girl home. Her godfather is about to get his ass spanked."

"Figuratively or…?" Her raised eyebrow dared to see if he really wanted to know. Will decided he didn't. "Lucy, let's get going."

"Okay, Daddy!" He heard her start to get her bag, giving Jack a wet kiss goodbye, and he went to join her. As he started away, Anamaria took him by the forearm.

"Oh, Xander called last night," she whispered. "The ring will be ready by Wednesday."

"Thanks," he said, kissing her cheek. "I appreciate it."

"Just remember, I get to be there when you do it," she said, jokingly holding the knife to his throat. "I am taking enough pictures to fill two albums. You figured out how yet?"

"No." Weatherby Swann's sudden appearance had thrown his engagement plans to the backburner, but with the ring almost in his pocket, he needed to get his ass in gear. "Maybe I'll just do it at the baby shower."

"You try and upstage Bria's party, she's going to make sure that baby boy is the last one you father."

Lucy skidded into the kitchen then, wrapping his legs up in a hug. "Can we go home, please? Elizabeth said last night that she'd make name-cakes."

"I'll just hide behind this one if Lady McKendrick is displeased with me," Will told Anamaria. He glanced down at his daughter. "You'd protect me from anything, right?"

"Uh-huh." She thought for a moment. "Well, except for clowns. They're kind of scary and you're a grown-up so you could just make them trip on their big shoes if they got too close."

He nodded sagely, sharing a smile with Anamaria as he nudged Lucy to the door. "Love of my life, this one is."

Once outside, he sent her ahead on her own, lingering behind to watch her skip happily through the sand while she tossed Felix as high as she could in the air. His imagination conjured an image of Lucy in a pretty dress, throwing flower petals instead of her bear and he wanted it – his wedding day – as he had wanted few things before. Anamaria's advice rang through his mind, placing a pause over his need to worry Elizabeth with fears she couldn't see, but he knew only one thing would silence the clamoring warning bells his gut was setting off. Pulling out his phone, he quickly dialed and waited on the other end.

"Strathwood Hotel. How may I help you?"

"Weatherby Swann's room, please. Presidential Suite. The call is from Will Turner."

There was a moment of silence before the line connected again. "Is Elizabeth all right?" Weatherby asked without preamble.

"Yes, she and the baby are fine. I was calling to see if you had time to speak to me further."

"Mr. Turner, I'm leaving in a few hours for South America. A meeting today would not be possible, so I believe we should-"

"Have this conversation right here and now. Yes sir, I completely agree."

"Very well then," Weatherby said after a long beat. "What more do we need to discuss?"

"You were right last night, about all of our difference not being resolved in one dinner. We're probably going to need years to sort everything through. I just wanted you to know that we're going to have that. The years, I mean, because I don't plan on ever being cut out of Elizabeth's life."

"I don't follow, Mr. Turner."

"From everything Elizabeth's told me, you loved your late wife very much." He waited for a strong rebuke about overstepping, but Weatherby said nothing. "I imagine her death was extremely difficult for you to process and in managing your grief, you made Elizabeth your world; a world you needed safe and nearby always, no matter if she wanted to be or not. Even you said yourself that you stifled her to the point where she needed to escape."

"Are you just going to keep repeating things that I spoke of last night or is there something more substantive you're trying to get across?"

His brusqueness didn't deter Will in the least. "My point is, she has more than you now in her life, sir. I can understand it may be hard to accept but it doesn't make any less true. She has friends, a great job, and both of my children." He took a steadying breath. "Not to mention me. If you want to be a part of her life now, I welcome that because I want her to be loved by her father, but I won't allow you for one more second to put your needs over hers anymore."

"You speak quite freely of a complicated relationship that you have not been a part of. Perhaps your own ghosts are making you see things."

The thought of Weatherby Swann studying a background file like the one Bria had complied on him made Will's jaw clench, but he kept his tone civil. "And if that is the case, you have my apologies. I only want one thing to be perfectly clear: I love Elizabeth, wholly and for who she really is, and there is nothing – no bribe, no threat – that would ever pull me away from her or our son."

He braced himself for the explosion. In Will's experience, challenging a man's integrity regarding family normally ended up with not-so veiled promises of retribution.

But he had never dealt with a man like Weatherby Swann.

"Is there anything else you feel you must elaborate on?" the other man asked, perfectly calm, as if discussing a rescheduled business meeting.

"No sir."

"Very well. Please give my regards to my daughter, if you are so inclined. Good day, Mr. Turner."

The call ended, and Will lengthened his stride, needing to see Elizabeth with his own eyes. When he reached the deck, the sound of music stopped him, while the sight of Elizabeth dancing merrily in the kitchen captivated him, the thin tank top was stretched taut against her belly, her hips swaying side-to-side as she brushed out his daughter's curls. Lucy herself sat at the table attacking a plate of name-cakes, carrying on a conversation that must have been hilarious if Elizabeth throwing her head back in laughter was any indication.

 _Don't drop to one knee in front of her_ , Will ordered himself, the urge to do so nearly overpowering him. _Anamaria would kill you, Jack would hide your body, and Bria would represent them both in court. Do_ _ **not**_ _propose right now._

So not to scare her, he opened the door carefully and stepped inside, an old Beatle's song and his ladies' giggles enfolding him.

"Good morning, dear William," Elizabeth greeted, setting the brush down and wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him gently.

"Morning," he said, joining her smile when she stayed pressed to him.

"Daddy, Elizabeth's being very silly this morning," Lucy said in between bites of an "L". "She's having a dance party right in the kitchen!"

"Yes, she is," Elizabeth agreed, starting to sway again. "And now Daddy is going to join her."

"No, no, I am not a dancer. Anamaria tried to teach me once for a school formal and we agreed to never speak of it again." He tried to resist but Elizabeth persisted.

"Really? Because I recall sharing a very nice dance with you once."

The dreamy smile she gave him combined with the memory of their time at the pub melted his resolve and he glided her slowly around the table in a poor waltz, blushing furiously as his chortling daughter watched them. "The things I do for you," he muttered good-naturedly.

Instead of taking it as a joke, Elizabeth's smiled softly. Her hand slid into his short hair, curling the ends between her fingers. "I know," she whispered when they were out of Lucy's earshot. "I promise I know, and I'll never take a single one for granted."

His thumb caressed the ring finger on her left hand, wishing he could conjure the ring Anamaria had helped him find onto it. It was a three-carat diamond on a band of thin white-gold that the jeweler, Xander, was setting with smaller diamonds. He had known it was perfect for her the second he saw it and for once didn't flinch at the cost or look for a cheaper version. It was Elizabeth's ring; hers and hers alone.

Just like he was.

Unfortunately, even when the ring was secured in his possession, inspiration failed to strike him. Nothing was good enough: a candlelit dinner was horribly cliché; a romantic sail at sunset might make her feel trapped on the water; involving Lucy put the odds at high that the ring would get some kind of stain on it and/or lost to one of her dolls. He was so desperate, the heavy weight of the ring in his pocket a constant nag of his inadequacy, that by the time the baby shower rolled around, he was working up the courage to ask Bria's advice, except she couldn't spare him the time in her manic whirl of decorating every part of the back deck and surrounding beach area in blue balloons, streamers, and signs.

"Alright, a little to the left," she instructed Pintel and Raggetti, motioning with her hands as the two men stood on opposite ends of separate ladders trying to hang a banner over the sliding glass door with the first guests due to arrive in ten minutes or so. "No, no left! Actual left! Did you not learn what left means in school?"

"Oh, is we supposed to be insulted?" Pintel barked out. "Well, missy, we's never even finished school, so joke's on you!"

"Joke on you," Raggetti snickered.

Bria backed up until she joined Will where he was setting up chairs on the sand. "Those walking, talking amoebas will never be left alone with my godson, correct?"

"They're harmless," Will explained, smiling as the two brothers started throwing discarded tissue paper at each other. "You'll never find better sock puppet performers, I promise you that." Finished with the arranging, he nodded around the area with approval. "This place looks amazing. Thank you."

"Well, it's no trouble. I'm mean, it really isn't considering how little space there is to fill."

He followed her to the food spread, frowning as she noshed on stuffed mushrooms. "You really are incapable of being gracious, aren't you?"

"Oh, don't be such a girl. I speak in jest. My Lizzie loves this beach house." They each studied the cottage thoughtfully, Will remembering all the growing up he had done in the first home of his own. "Still, would an addition or three really kill you? I've seen servant's quarters that are roomier."

The rebuke was on the tip of his tongue when a vision suddenly took him over: Elizabeth's look of elated shock as he kneeled in front of her, the box with the ring in one hand and a roll of blueprints in the other. Looking to the vast empty stretch of beach to his left, he could almost see a two-story house painted a crisp light yellow and an even larger deck laden with toys, a happy symphony of little laughing voices from still-nameless children playing beautiful music only he could hear. But clearest of all was Elizabeth, laying out plates on a long wooden table, a few wrinkles around her eyes, smiling brilliantly across the way.

It was home.

It was **their** home.

 _That's it_ , he thought, grinning like a loon. _That's it!_

"What?" he heard Bria ask. "What is it?"

Instead of answering, he kissed her soundly on the cheek. "You're brilliant."

"Yes, this is true." She studied him with bewilderment. "What has my brilliance accomplished for you right now though?"

Before he could think of a white lie, Elizabeth emerged from the house carrying a large cake to place on the table, wearing a long blue sundress with blue pinstripe ribbons tied to the end of her pigtailed hair. "What are two of my favorite people gossiping about?" she asked them.

"Nothing," Will said at once. On a whim, he stepped behind her and wrapped his hands around her stomach, burying his face in her neck. "You look beautiful."

"Ugh," Bria snorted, walking away from them. "I'm going to find the one of you three that's the least annoying. Lucy!"

"I knew they'd be besties before long," Elizabeth whispered conspiratorially, grinning under his attentions. "Everyone's going to be here soon."

"Don't care." He nudged aside the strap of her dress with his nose, stealing a taste of her tan skin. "It's your party, we can tell them all to go to hell if you want."

"No, because that would be rude. Besides, it's not my party." Her hand joined his, pressing slightly into the baby until Will felt a small poke in return. "It's all for him."

"That it is."

"What do you think of Sam?"

"I don't know, who is he or she?"

"For a name, you dolt. William Samuel Turner. I think it's quite distinguished."

"Sam…Samuel…Sammy…" He tried it out a few times, neither offended or inspired. "It's alright. I'll add it to my list."

"There's a list? Do I get to peek at it?"

"That depends: Do I get to peek the birthday present you think you're hiding so well for Lucy at the café?" She turned, gasping with false indignation. "What? People owe me more favors than you in this town. I get special tips every now and then. So, what will my daughter's favorite present be?"

"It's nothing fancy," Elizabeth said, playing nervously with his collar. "I just…I wanted to make something unique for her. She's too special for anything ordinary."

"Well, she's not the only one," Will said, plans for his proposal rapidly coming together in his head.

He already knew the builders he would need from town; Nathaniel could help him with the actual design; Jack and Bria could work out the details of the land purchase to make it all official. All he'd need was help raising the money he'd need to get the project off the ground, hopefully so the build could start before the baby came.

 _Someone with deep pockets that wouldn't mind Elizabeth being treated like a queen? I wonder who will fit that bill?_

"Ah, the happy couple," Hank DeMarcus called jovially as he walked over from Jack's house with his old friend, a sizeable package tucked under his arm. "Don't they look…? What's the word, Jack?"

"That'd be nauseatin'," Jack replied, making a beeline for the huge cooler of assorted beers.

"Yes, that's word." He shook Will's hand and gave Elizabeth a gentle kiss. "Hope you don't mind I'm a bit early. Can't stay too long, there's a swimming pool-sized hot tub at my house that is calling my name. I just wanted to come by and present my gift before the crowd." He held out the unwrapped box for Elizabeth. "For you, my dear."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said as she opened it, eyes welling slightly when she saw an assortment of loose photos, albums, and old journals. "Oh Hank…this is amazing."

"It's not all of it. There's actually the potential for more. Your mother had several safe deposit boxes at a bank in New York."

"She did?" Elizabeth pulled away from the treasures, confused. "Why did my father never mention them?"

"They're in her maiden name so he might not have known or had access. As her only child, you are entitled to the contents. My lawyers can get the documents together that you'll need to sign to have them released."

"Would she have to travel there?" Will asked, glancing at her ever-growing belly.

"Probably not. I have a good relationship with that bank, it was where your grandfather kept most of his assets. It just might take a spell to get everything in order."

"Do you know what's in them?"

"Couldn't say. Maybe more personal belongings of your mother's or old family keepsakes she wanted you to have. We'll have to wait and see. In the meantime, you have these to enjoy." He dug through the box a little until he pulled one of several small cassette tapes out. "Especially these. Old demo reels she made when she was young."

"Singing?" Elizabeth held one gingerly in her hand, swallowing. "She…She's singing on these?"

"Like an angel." He smiled sadly. "No matter how deep the depression pulled her under sometimes, she always found joy when she was in front of a microphone and a crowd."

Elizabeth leaned into Will with a sigh and he rubbed a hand down her back supportively. "Thank you," she whispered again. Easing away gently, she picked up the box and headed inside. "I'm going to look at these for a bit in private if you don't mind."

"No worries, luv," he told her with a kiss.

"Hope I didn't spoil her day," Hank said when she was gone.

"She'll be fine," Will assured him, grabbing a beer for the both of them and sitting them on the steps. "She's been reconnecting with her father. Anything to do with her mum is going to be a little more sensitive to the touch, especially today."

"So he managed to crawl her way back to her good grace's?" Hank shook his head, taking a hard swig. "Shame that is."

"Why do you say?" Will asked, his interest in Weatherby Swann piqued again after their détente phone call.

"Mind you, I'm no expert on the man or his relationship with Elizabeth. I only know from the little I saw of him with Etta that he was not man enough for her."

"How?"

"It was a whirlwind courtship between them. They met at some glitzy charity event in New York a few months after her father died. Weatherby Swann was…I suppose charming to some. I found him to be quite the snake, truth be told. Not Etta, though. She fell hard and fast. He was not good enough for her and he damn well knew it, but instead of raising himself to her splendor, like some," Hank smiled briefly at Will before frowning, "he dragged her down to his depths; made her feel inferior and less than what she was. Convinced her that his love was the only thing that could save her. When her mother died suddenly of a heart attack, there was no one Etta would listen to. She moved with him back to London, married him a month later, and that was the last many of us in our old circle saw her."

Will's blood chilled, the familiar rhythms and actions of the man in the story dampening his mood. His instincts weren't misplaced psychological trauma. No words he could say to Weatherby Swann would sway the man. There was a battle he'd have to fight, possibly in the very near future, for Elizabeth's future against a challenging opponent.

Reaching into his pocket, he felt her ring against his fingertips fill him with resolve.

"I won't let him hurt Elizabeth," Will vowed to Hank. "Not anymore."

Hank nodded, clapping his back and draining the rest of his beer as he stood to leave. "You know, can't say for certain, but I think there's a decent chance that I would've traded my first million if I could've been half the man you are now when I was your age."

Will smirked slightly. "But not the second, right?"

"Nope, not on your life." He nodded again in farewell. "Give your love to my lady. I'll see you Monday."

"Right. Oh, wait!" Scurrying over, he pulled Hank aside from the people starting to arrive at the house with blue-wrapped presents. "Um, listen, can we talk on Monday about a…a financial matter?"

"Sure." Hank's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Perhaps you'd like the advice of a man married numerous times regarding certain pieces of jewelry?"

"That part I've got," he replied under his breath. "But, uh, a man who's owned more homes than years I've been alive might be someone to talk to about real estate investments? Maybe?"

Hank said nothing, only gave him a knowing grin before departing, leaving Will to begin greeting the guests. There was quite a crowd when Elizabeth joined him a little later, wrapping him in a deep hug, her eyes only slightly dim.

"You okay?"

"Of course." She smiled ever so. "You're here, aren't you?"

Before he could comfort her further, Lucy was at her side, her dress and hair almost copying Elizabeth's, tugging on her arm. "Come on, Bria made up games for us to play. She already let me taste the baby food so I'm going to be the winner of that one!"

"Well, we best make sure Auntie Ana has her camera out then," Will told her, kissing both his ladies as they joined the gaggle of females while he found the few men brave enough to come and formed a gathering in their own in the corner near the alcohol.

Though he had no experience with baby showers, Will deemed Elizabeth's to be a success. The guests were all friends she had made in her time here – mostly from the café as well as a few mothers of Lucy's new friends – and they were eager to welcome her into what was apparently a rite of motherhood. Once everyone was fed, Bria led a series of games that ranged from the bizarre(the aforementioned baby food tasting that Lucy took easily) to the charming (a five-minute onesie design contest that two waitresses from the café tied for the win) to the disgusting (mixing different sweets to make edible baby poo, which Elizabeth won with very little competition). Will's only true participation was in opening a few of the larger gifts, the biggest being a ridiculously expensive-looking pram that looked like it had been built by German engineers and posing for some select pictures with both her and Lucy. Thankfully, whatever melancholy Elizabeth had been feeling vanished in the face of being fawned over. Every woman there seemed to keep at least one hand on her belly at all times, letting her relish in being some sort of feminine goddess in their eyes as well as Will's. He couldn't stop looking at her, much to the teasing of his mates.

With the party finally winding down and Lucy occupied on the beach with Pintel and Raggetti, the alcohol flowed a bit more freely, letting the behavior edge a little closer to bawdy, which the women allowed as they began to clean up the carnage. Gibbs and Jack were taking turns imitating lovesick faces they said he had been making all day when a stranger in a rumpled suit and tie approached them slowly. "Mr. William Turner?"

"Yeah?" he asked offhandedly, checking to see if the ice needed to be restocked.

"Birthdate January 28th, 1992?"

Now the stranger had the attention of all the men, inebriated as some of them were. "Yes?" he repeated, sensing the seriousness of the situation. "Who are you?"

The man only smiled impolitely and produced a thick wad of paper with a blue back cover. "You've been served. Details are inside. Failure to appear or provide notice may result in fines or other legal punishments. Have a good day." He was off before Will's mouth closed, leaving him gaping with the papers in his limp hand.

"What in the hell…?" he said out loud, staring at his friends as if they held all the answers. "Who would even have the cash to sue me, never mind an actual reason?"

Their eyes pinged back and forth until Gibbs suddenly sat a little straighter. "Palmer," he growled, his whiskers twitching menacingly. "Gabriel Palmer, that feckless coward."

"Oh God," Will groaned, closing his eyes, vividly remembering the brawl at the pub. It seemed the scumbag's talk of hiring a lawyer hadn't just been talk after all. He wiped his free hand over his face. "You've got to be effing kidding me!"

"No worries, whelp," Jack said, staggering up and shouting across the deck. "Oi! Bloodsucker!"

"What?!" Bria called back, her mouth full of leftover cake.

"Get that boney arse over here! We's got a need for you!"

She came over with both Elizabeth and Anamaria, immediately zeroing in on the papers Will held. "Ugh, really?" Eating the last of her cake, she took the documents and began reading, walking a few steps away from them to focus. "I'm not giving you a discount on my fee!"

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked worriedly.

"The fight at the Peddler," he said, unable to meet her eye. "The arsehole's suing."

"Is he mad?! That was weeks ago! And he started it!"

"Pay it no mind, Lizzie," Jack assured her. "The fair Lady McKendrick shall distract him with legal mumbo-jumbo while we," he pointed around to himself, Gibbs, and to Pintel and Raggetti playing tag with Lucy, "visit Mr. Palmer to help him properly realign his memories of that evening."

"Oh, that sounds like a jolly good time," Gibbs agreed with a dark smile.

"No," Will ordered them. "Don't even think about it."

"Why not?" Anamaria asked, sliding into Jack's lap. "He's a lying rat that deserves a beatdown."

"Not to mention a pig," Elizabeth chimed in bitterly, squeezing back into Will's side.

"Do not encourage this, they're not joking."

"Neither am I. If I wasn't lugging around extra cargo, I'd be in on this raiding party myself."

"Thanks, mate," Will said to Jack, unable to hide his small smile, kissing Elizabeth's forehead lovingly. "She was a nice girl before she met you. Now look at her: corrupted and planning vigilante justice with the rest of you."

"See? I am a pirate after all, just like I always wanted to be." Elizabeth's own eyes sparkled almost as bright as the diamond in his pocket. Hopefully, designing a house wouldn't take too long.

He'd give himself a week of white-knuckle grinding before he caved and begged her to be his wife.

"Good, we've done the Lord's work then. You're quite welcome." Jack bowed formally, to which Gibbs and Anamaria applauded him.

"I'm the only sane one here, I swear it." He turned back to Bria. "So, how much is a few punches going to cost me?"

Instead of answering, Bria kept staring at the papers, her eyes flickering sharply across the pages as she read.

"Uh-oh, maybe shouldn't have sprung for the fancy beer. Might need to watch your pennies."

"Good thing I stole it from your club then," he tossed back, dodging Jack's swift kick. "Seriously, Bria, how much trouble is this going to be?"

Again, she ignored them all and slowly the laughing amusement petered out until there was only nervous pressure rapidly rising among the five of them. Whatever was in those papers was something serious.

After another long moment, Elizabeth finally said, "Brianna, what's wrong?"

Her friend's voice finally broke the lawyer's haze and she blinked at them, all the devilish charm erased from her features for the first time since they had known her. "Will, can we go talk inside?"

"What is it?"

"We should speak in private."

"They're all going to hear about this before the night's over anyways." He felt Elizabeth slide her hand into his and he squeezed as tight as he dared, nerves flooding his senses. "How much can Palmer want?"

"It's not about the bar fight," she corrected gently, rejoining them with slow, measured steps, practicing the words to herself before she said, "The suit is being brought by a woman named Rebecca Wilson."

Of all the things he had been prepared to hear, that was the last one he was expecting. "Rebecca?"

While Will still reeled at hearing the name again after so long, Jack's eyes narrowed to slits. "That cancerous whore is still alive? What could she want after all this time?"

Bria's mouth opened and closed without a sound. His heartbeat beginning to race, he felt Elizabeth's hand become moist with sweat as it slowly came to each of them in horrific realization:

There was only one thing Will had that his junkie ex-girlfriend could want from him.

Unable to speak, Will looked back to Bria, who nodded gravely.

"Got you!" They all whipped around at Lucy's happy cry as she tackled Pintel to the ground and raised her arms in victory. "I'm the winner!"


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: Hi everyone! Less then two motnhs this time, so slight progress. Forwarning, this chapter falls heavily into the angst category so be prepared. Also, I am by no means a legal expert. I'm simply relying on Google and growing up on "Law and Order" to make the legal dialogue/situations believable in the world of fiction. This is another solo chapter of Elizabeth only. It felt like we needed to be in her head for this section. As always, forgive my awful grammar and spelling, and pleas enjoy. I'd love to hear from you guys if you have time. Please enjoy!**

* * *

"Right…Uh-huh, Rebecca Wilson…W-I-L-S-O-N…Try searching databases in Melbourne, Australia first, that's where she was born. I've already emailed you all the preliminary info…Yes, I want the full job, every last detail you can find. All the arrests, all the boyfriends, all the nasty little skeletons she's hiding," Bria said into her phone, pacing the length of the small kitchen, dodging the other people also buried into their own phones, save for Elizabeth and Will, who sat stoically at the table, waiting for the lawyer to finish. "Good, thanks…I know, I will…Can you get back to me in a few hours?...No, I don't give a shite what Gilchrist wants, this case is the priority…Oh, I see: now, when I really need you, you're the firm's investigator and can't play favorites…No, no I understand completely, unlike your wife when she finds out about that flat in Sunderland and the blonde you've got shacked up there. Tell me, Dimitri, were you smart enough to get a pre-nup this time?" She smiled tartly and nodded. "Yeah, that's what I thought, little man. Start digging."

"You shouldn't threaten people," Elizabeth told her when she hung up. Bria shot her an incredulous look and Elizabeth was quick to clarify. "I mean, people you need for help."

"Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie…." Bria clucked her tongue with disapproval, writing more things done on a rapidly-filling legal pad. "You would not have lasted five minutes in a courtroom. Okay, does anyone have any good leads on her?"

"No," Anamaria sighed, putting her own phone away while Jack and Gibbs still spoke rapidly into theirs. "Last known sighting was about five years ago. A friend of mine thought they saw her in the Caymans somewhere, then nothing after that. Marty and Cotton are going to some of the bars she waitressed at in town, see if anyone's heard from her."

"And the amoebas?"

"They're hitting the dope houses she used to frequent."

Elizabeth shuddered, unnerved by how casually Anamaria spoke yet none of the others seemed affected so she said nothing. She supposed it made sense: Bria often spoke of many of her clients as if they were scum and the others had had years of dealing with the unsavory realities of knowing a drug addict.

A drug addict who was trying to take Lucy away.

 _How did this happen? I mean, weren't we just having a party?_ Elizabeth thought helplessly. _Weren't we just laughing together, amazed at how many people loved our baby?_

Unconsciously, her hand went back to her belly, rubbing it soothingly as she tried to refocus on the conversation at hand, glancing sideways at Will. He still had the glazed, slightly unfocused look he had been sporting since Bria had finished reading the papers hours ago. He had managed to put on a good front for his daughter while they occupied her until bedtime, but when her door was finally closed, he hadn't been able to hide his controlled anguish. Putting her free hand over his, she tried to pass off some of her minimal strength to him, watching him for any changes as Jack and Gibbs both finally ended their calls, neither having got anything new from their local contacts.

"Alright," Bria continued when everyone was settled. "My guy will have more for us in the morning about where Rebecca is now but, in the meantime, let's see if we can clarify some things so I have a better picture for when I go into court in two days."

"Two days?" Gibbs cut in. "I know justice is swift where you come from, m'lady, but in these parts…Why are you going in so soon?"

"It's a meeting between the attorneys and the judge to go over procedure, not a hearing, although that will apparently be coming sooner rather than later. The case has been fast-tracked. Her lawyer is arguing," Bria read from the blasted documents again, "that denying Ms. Wilson further contact with the minor child after such a prolonged absence will create an undue burden of emotional barriers that will be difficult to overcome. Therefore, we request an immediate hearing regarding…yadda yadda yadda…this lass is good, whoever's representing her. She's got my attention, for sure. That's some prime, Grade-A bullshit legalese she's putting out to fertilize."

"Who is it anyways? This place ain't exactly chock full of legal scholars."

"Uh…Teach. Angelica Teach. She's based in Miami, apparently, but can practice here."

"Oh bugger," Jack moaned, closing his eyes in pain.

For the first time in the meeting, Will reacted. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, glaring at Jack along with Gibbs. Anamaria took it a step further by punching him viciously in the shoulder.

" _Idiota!_ " she whispered, hitting him again as he took it with a chagrinned grimace. "Of all the women you could have treated like…like… **you**!It had to be her!"

"Have I been blessed since birth with the gift of Sight and no one bothered to tell me?" he asked them all. "Was I to know that somehow one of them women fortunate to share me bed would avail herself to the enemy at the opportune moment?"

"Wait, wait." Elizabeth held up a hand, struggling to follow. "Are you trying to say that the attorney representing Rebecca is an ex-girlfriend of yours? Seriously?"

"Wut?" He shrugged, rubbing his sore arm. "Women love me. It's me curse to bear in this wretched life."

"How badly did it end?" Bria asked. "On a scale of one to Chernobyl, what's her level of vindictiveness going to be?"

"Well…the partin' was less than amicable but I really don't think that she'll-"

"Amicable?!" Gibbs snorted, taking a long swig from his flask before addressing Bria. "She was studying to become a holy nun, he convinced her to leave her order, slept with her, and left her three days later to spend a summer in every massage parlor in Singapore. Amicable my hairy red arse!"

Groaning, Bria grabbed the flask from Gibbs and downed it back. "You people will be the death of me, I swear," she grumbled, handing the empty container back. "So opposing counsel is competent and motivated. Not ideal, but not impossible to overcome, depending on what we have to work with. Will?" She turned her razor-sharp eyes onto him, waiting until he was focused. "Do you want to do this privately, attorney to client, or do you mind if Lizzie or the others are here?"

"No secrets," he said, his own intensity thrumming around him. "If we're all going to fight for Lucy, we're doing this together."

Bria nodded, picking up her pen and legal pad again. "Fine then. She left about six years ago when Lucy was roughly two weeks old. Correct?"

"Yes."

"By her own free will? You didn't force her out, threaten her in anyway?"

"Jesus, Bria," Elizabeth admonished. "You can't think he'd-"

"He's perfect now, yes, but no one is a saint from cradle to grave." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you make her think she had no choice, except to leave her daughter behind?"

"No," Will replied, the line of his jaw tightening. "We fought a lot, yeah. Newborns are stressful, even when the relationship is solid, which ours clearly wasn't. It didn't seem any worse than other times though." He glanced at his friends. "Did it? Or did I miss something?"

"No," Jack assured him. "That woman had no business tryin' to play anyone's mummy. Only reason she made it those two weeks was 'cause you held her up, whelp."

"So she left on her own," Bria continued. "You said she left a note explaining how she couldn't raise a child and that Lucy would be better off without her?"

"Yes."

"Do you still have it?"

"No, I chucked it. I never wanted Lucy to find it someday and…" Bria's head dropped as she sighed. "What?"

"And you never had her parental rights terminated, I'm guessing? Never filed notice with any court or government office? Never went before a judge to declare that she had legally abandoned Lucy?"

"No," he whispered, brows furrowing in confusion. "I was supposed to do all that?"

"Aye, aye you were."

"No, that's ain't true," Jack cut in, pointing his finger at Bria. "We spoke to my own lawyer after the whelp decided to keep the wee one. The ones in Kingston wouldn't deal with him after he backed out of the adoption. Grover said everythin' was fine and dandy if she stayed gone for a year, we'd never have to worry about her again."

"Does this Grover specialize in family law and child custody cases?"

"He's a lawyer," Jack practically growled into her face. "A lawyer is a lawyer is a lawyer; rotten thieves you all are."

"Tell me, on those rare occasions you actually go to a dentist, do you have him remove the warts from your toes and give you a prostate exam after he's done cleaning your teeth?" Bria snarled. "I mean, a doctor is a doctor is a doctor after all." Jack backed down with his tail between his legs and Bria leaned tiredly against the fridge, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Child custody laws vary widely all over the world and are constantly being modified. If you're unsure, even a little, it's best to go to a **knowledgeable** lawyer to get it sorted out so something like this doesn't happen."

"Wait, wait, wait." Will stood and rounded the table to stand in front of her. "Are you saying there's a chance Rebecca could go to a judge and get him to make me let her see Lucy after all this time?"

Bria shrugged and shook her head. "I honestly don't know. I need to do research on laws here. The fact that she was gone for so many years without contact helps us, but it's not a guarantee. Teach could argue the drug addiction was a mitigating circumstance; an illness that kept her away that she shouldn't be held accountable for since-"

"Brianna Morag McKendrick, you stop spouting your legalese bullshit and tell us what's going to happen," Elizabeth said sternly. "And do not talk about this case as if it involved some trust-fund little snot you couldn't care less about. You are representing someone far more important."

Staring up at the ceiling, Bria blinked a few times to gather her thoughts. "If Rebecca only wants some form of visitation, she'll get it. Most judges view blood ties as tantamount, unless the parent is a total psycho. It's highly doubtful – though again, not impossible – that she'll be given full custody, unless you do something to really piss the judge off. Without knowing the specifics of the laws here just yet, I'd say the most likely outcome is going to be some sort of joint custody."

"Joint…" Will trailed off into a bitter laugh. "This is mad."

"I know."

"Rebecca has never sent her so much as a birthday card. She's taken no responsibility for my daughter. I've given every ounce of myself to raising her and now you're saying because…because I didn't know I had to fill out some bloody paperwork, I'm going to have to trust that woman to care for Lucy on her own? Is that really what passes for fair in your goddamn justice system?!"

"You need to stay calm," the lawyer instructed, unflinching. "You're my client now. I'm going to speak to you like one, not as my godson's father, so listen carefully: you're about to embark on the most excruciatingly frustrating experience of your life, every facet of it is going to be open to examination and criticism, and there's not a thing you can do about it. The only advice I can give that will make it bearable is if you keep your head screwed on straight and tight. Your ex? Her lawyer? The judge? Anytime you're ready to unload on them, you find me and let me have it, so it doesn't come back on you. Understand?"

Slowly, he nodded, the fight draining out of him as the implications of what Bria had laid out for them set in. Elizabeth longed to pull him into her arms; to comfort him, to protect him as he did for her. He had dealt with a lifetime of agonies; that this was being done to him now, when everything was starting to turn a corner, filled her with rage.

For idiotic legal mazes.

For lawyers who took advantage of them.

For men who spurned women, only to have that spurn directed at innocent bystanders.

But mostly for women. Women who brought life into this world, left it behind like trash, only to come back when they finally wanted to, regardless if that little life needed them or not.

If Rebecca Wilson were to knock on the front door right now, Elizabeth knew without a doubt she could strangle her to death without losing a night's sleep.

Jack's words broke her out of her homicidal musings. "Right then, here's what we do: I'm sure Hank will have no qualms 'bout frontin' the money. We buy the bitch off, send her out to live her days, and leave us all in peace. Savvy?"

"No," Bria denied. "That won't work."

"Why not?" Elizabeth asked her friend, joining Will in front of her. "Why wouldn't it? They all say she's a horrid person. Horrid people love getting money to run away. Why couldn't it work?"

"Would Hank really be willing to…?" Will ran tired hands through his cut hair. "It'd probably have to be a lot of money."

"Of course he would. I'll ask him myself. He wouldn't deny me, not after how he's been about my mother and what she meant to him."

"Lizzie, we can't-"

"Maybe I can go over there right now," Elizabeth thought out loud. "I'll just explain everything to him. Maybe he'll even have the cash on hand."

"Listen, I can't let you-"

"Bet your beautiful bosom he's got the cash on hand," Jack said. "I'll call now, let him know you's on your way."

"Good, then if you guys can stay with Lucy, Will and I can-"

"HEY!" Bria smacked her hand against the countertop. The rest of them jumped slightly, stepping back as a storm cloud erupted over her face. "All of you shut your traps and listen well and good: none of you – I repeat, **NONE** of you – will have this discussion again, either in front of me or in private. Forget this idea right now."

"No," Elizabeth argued, surging hormones compounding her anger to the point of visualizing ripping Bria's hair out in chunks. "We need to protect Lucy, this is the best way."

"It's actually the worst way, trust me."

"Trusting lawyers isn't a high priority for me right now, my dear." Her nostrils flared in defiance. "The lot of you come up with these ridiculous rules that ordinary mortals aren't meant to understand, that way they need you, that way you can keep making gobs of money you don't deserve. Every lawyer can just go and piss off for all I care!"

"Elizabeth don't-" Anamaria tried to stop her, but Bria silenced her with a wave.

"I'm a big girl. I can take this." She looked her oldest friend up and before sighing dramatically. "Especially from a girl as big as her."

It was enough of a sideswipe to drown out the rage. "Do not make jokes," Elizabeth said with a watery chuckle, loving her best girl for clearing her head.

"And do not make any more plans for trying to buy a child, eh?"

"Why? We can't risk...She can't be allowed to…" Elizabeth heard in his voice how desperate Will was for some escape from this nightmare. Bria couldn't take it away from them without an airtight reason. "Why can't we?"

"Because if this Teach woman is even halfway competent, which she appears to be from this filing, and she works for a firm with enough resources, which she does if this letterhead is correct, then the first thing she'll do is convince her client to assign an independent accountant to their team," Bria explained. "They'll watch all her bank accounts and all her financial purchases, as well as all of yours once they get a judge to sign off on it. If anything raises red flags, she'll drop her immediately or, if she catches one of you MENSA members setting something up, she'll have us all by the short and curlies. Child buying has become a prosecutable offense in recent years, one even I wouldn't be able to get you out of. Not to mention, of course, it would be a remarkable demonstration of poor character to a judge that will determine who's fit to raise that girl." She stared them all down, one by one. "Is this clear to everyone or do I need large cards with bright pictures and small words?"

Before any of them could answer, a little voice startled them all. "What's going on?" They all turned to find Lucy, her hair disheveled and clutching her bear under one arm, pouting crossly at all of them. "You're being very loud and you're keeping Felix awake."

When the others hesitated, with even Will unable to speak, Elizabeth felt herself instantly move closer to Lucy, hugging her back when she wrapped her arms around Elizabeth's legs. "It's much too late for you to be out of bed, you know."

"Why are you all still here then? And why were people yelling?"

"We were just planning things for your birthday party. Now that we're done with the baby's shower, we've got a lot to do. Bria had some very strong opinions on the music choices." Somehow, her voice remained level as she gently nudged Lucy back down the hall into her room, needing to get away from that blasted kitchen before she burst into pieces. "Into bed with you now."

"Felix doesn't feel good," Lucy whined when Elizabeth settled her under the covers. "His tummy hurts."

"Oh, then Felix must have had too many sweets today. Does he want a ginger biscuit to nibble on?"

"No, thank you. He wants you to stay with us until he falls asleep."

"Okay." Perching on the bed, Elizabeth stroked Lucy's hair gently, taking in every delicate feature as her eyes slowly closed. Just when she thought the girl had succumbed, Lucy suddenly sat up straight and tapped her finger on Elizabeth's belly.

"How come you haven't named him yet? People were asking me at the party."

"We talked about this, poppet," Elizabeth said as she eased her back down. "Remember, Daddy's deciding, and he wants to get it just right before he tells us."

"But I don't want to keep calling him, 'The Baby'. It's silly. Can't we call him something so he doesn't think I'm making fun of him when he's born?"

 _What if she's not here when he's born?_

At that horrific thought, the baby kicked sharply. It wouldn't just be she and Will and everyone else that would be devastated if they lost Lucy; her son would be without his big sister. He would be a wholly different person if he had to grow up seeing Lucy only sporadically. As much as his parents would adore him, he'd need a playmate and a protector, one filled to the brim with a light all her own that no other child they might have later on could replace.

It wasn't just Lucy's future that was at stake. Nearly everyone she loved would suffer if they couldn't find a way out of this mess.

Taking one of Lucy's hands, hoping she wouldn't notice the slight tremor of her own, Elizabeth placed it over the baby, smiling with the girl at the movement. "You could call him what I call him to myself if you'd like. I like to call him Shelf."

"Shelf?"

Smiling wider, Elizabeth took a miniature snow globe from Lucy's bedside table and balanced it on the crest of her belly. "See?"

"Oh," Lucy said with a sweet giggle. Leaning forward, she pressed a tiny kiss to the bump. "Hi Shelf. You had a very nice party. I promise I won't play with any of your new presents before you get here."

Turning slightly so Lucy wouldn't see the wisps of fear in her eyes, Elizabeth settled the girl against the pillows again, resuming her hair stroking. "Time to sleep now. Time for pleasant dreams and nothing more."

"Does he fall asleep inside you?" Lucy asked instead of closing her eyes.

"He does. More easily than you do it seems. He's a better listener."

"How do you get him to?"

"I rub my belly, like I'm rubbing your back," she said, shifting her hand down past Lucy's hair. "I sway a bit, almost as if I'm rocking him. Sometimes I even hum a little, like I'm singing him to…" Struck with inspiration, Elizabeth hummed softly, waiting until Lucy's eyes started to flutter before she began to sing:

 _Who knows how long I've loved you  
You know I love you still  
Will I wait a lonely lifetime  
If you want me to- I will._

 _For if I ever saw you  
I didn't catch your name  
But it never really mattered  
I will always feel the same._

 _Love you forever and forever  
Love you with all my heart  
Love you whenever we're together  
Love you when we're apart._

 _And when at last I find you  
Your song will fill the air  
Sing it loud so I can hear you  
Make it easy to be near you  
For the things you do endear you to me  
You know I will  
I will._

Lucy was asleep before the song ended, but Elizabeth heard herself keep singing it in a tender whisper for long after, unable to look away from the little girl who didn't know the chaos she was in the middle of. It was the same one she had been sung to sleep with when she was Lucy's age; the words always sounded like they had come from her own mother's heart. She was so engrossed in the moment that it took Will's hand on her shoulder to bring her back. They tiptoed out and Will led her into their room. "Are you all done with Bria's questions?"

Will's thumb halted it's tracing of the contour of her cheek as he frowned. "Everyone left almost forty minutes ago."

"Oh."

"You have a beautiful voice, you know."

"No, not really," Elizabeth said, blushing.

"Trust me, you do. Should've found you a stage instead of a kitchen."

"I'd sing with my mum," she confessed in a whisper. "Her voice was the gift. After she…after it happened, I didn't like to do it by myself. Only with a crowd or a karaoke partner. I don't know what came over me."

"I think I might have an old cassette player somewhere. Do you want me to…?"

Her face must have made her answer clear. Even the thought of those tapes that Hank had brought by caused a shudder to race down her spine. "I can't," she admitted quietly. "Not tonight."

Will nodded, letting her go to change while she began turning the bed down. She was busy unfurling her hair when he finally sighed, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For letting this happen." He collapsed onto the bed with his back to her. "I should've made sure that Rebecca couldn't come back. I was careless with the most important thing in the world to me and now…"

"It's not your fault." She sat beside him, brushing her lips over his bare shoulder. "For all you knew, she was dead a long time ago."

"Does it make me a monster if I wish that had happened to the woman who gave birth to my daughter?"

If it did, then Elizabeth was a spawn of Satan because she wished she had gotten to do the deed herself. "Of course not," she said aloud, hugging him tightly.

"Look, I need you to tell me something and don't try to spare my feelings, okay?" He waited for Elizabeth to nod. "Is Bria really as good of a lawyer as she says she is? Can she really help us keep Lucy?" His pleading eyes held her captive. "Swear to me on something that matters that she can."

With the softest touch, she took his hand and placed it on their son. "I swear on him that Bria McKendrick is exactly the kind of lawyer we need right now. I trust her with my life, crazy pregnancy hormones notwithstanding."

"I know." He breathed harshly into her hair, massaging the baby when he stared moving. "Just the idea of having to see Rebecca again is insane, let alone thinking of doing drop-offs with her every other weekend or whatever she ends up getting. I mean, how am I going to explain this? Lucy never even really asks about her."

 _Well, why should she?_ Elizabeth thought pensively as they slipped under the blanket still wrapped around each other. _There's no need for her to, nor will there be. Bria can work her magic and make it so we never even have to mention that woman to Lucy at all._

It wasn't just wishful hope Elizabeth was relying on. Bria was preeminent in her field. The elite of London looked to her to help them navigate situations just like this one. Surely if she was called upon to represent lower-tier members of Europe's various monarchies, she could more than hold her own against one of Jack's former strumpets.

Couldn't she?

The next forty-eight hours were utter hell. It was such an effort to keep Lucy from becoming suspicious that Elizabeth began longing for the moments when she could be away from her, which only served to fill her with more guilt and despair because they were working to make sure that the little girl could stay with them forever. Her heart pounded every time the phone rang, hoping it was her friend to tell them that this torture was over, that life could go on again as before.

But like a thousand other things Elizabeth had hoped for in her years, it wasn't to be.

Bria came over the day of her conference with the judge and Angelica Teach after dinner was finished and the dishes were put away. Being her favorite person in all the world, Lucy had monopolized Bria's attention, insisting on drawing four pictures of ducks with her and making her read the same storybook twice before Will finally bodily carried her into bed. It was the longest ten minutes Elizabeth could remember as she and Bria waited for him to emerge from the room, neither able to speak for perhaps the first time in their relationship. When Will at last joined them outside on the deck, clasping her hand tight in his, Bria sat across from them in the wicker chaise, lips pursed together.

 _Oh God_ , she thought with a sinking stomach. _It's bad_.

"We're going into court for a hearing in two weeks. Depending on schedules and witnesses, it could last anywhere for a few days to a few months. Before that, the judge – Judge Dalma, by the way – is ordering you and Rebecca to go into mediation starting tomorrow."

"What does that mean?" Will asked.

"It's an attempt for the two of you, with your lawyers and a court-appointed administrator, to work out a compromise. Most judges feel it's better in the long run for children if their parents can figure out custody without a legal stick battering someone into submission."

"Isn't it?"

"Normally, but in my experience the only mediations that really work are the ones where there's an actual level of trust between the parties involved." She cocked a tired half-smile. "I'm guessing that doesn't apply to you and the ex-heroin addict."

He shook his head, studying Elizabeth's hand in his for a long moment. "Was she there? Rebecca? Did you meet her?"

"No, I just had to listen to Teach describe her to the judge. According to her, Rebecca has been sober for almost eighteen months-"

"Out of six years? Are we supposed to be impressed?" Elizabeth spit out. The other two shot her half-hearted glares and she apologized. "Sorry. Continue please."

"As well as working on her recovery, she's found steady work as a freelance graphic designer, mostly working on print ads for magazines. She rents a small house and has a dog, Charlie. She's dated casually but no serious relationships. As soon as possible, she wants to meet Lucy and is eager to prove what a good mother she can be. She also has no interest in cutting Will out of her life. They're going to be asking for joint custody," Bria finished, her words trailing into the night sky, eyes darting away from them.

"But…that's good, right?" Will asked her. "I mean, that's what we hoped for…isn't it?"

Elizabeth watched her oldest friend, never one to mince words or have an understanding of what tact meant, struggle to answer. Finally, she whispered, "Rebecca lives in Seattle, Will. If she's given joint custody, Lucy would live there with her for however long the arrangement stipulated." Will's eyes widened in understanding as Elizabeth felt her own breath become difficult to catch. "More than likely, in these situations, the judge will have the child live with one parent for six months out of the year and then go live with the other. I've seen some cases where-"

"Seattle is in America," Will broke in. "The other side of America, on the Pacific. That's thousands of miles away."

"I know."

"Lucy's never spent more than a week away from me and now you're…you're saying that a judge could rule that I send her away for months at a time?" he asked with wild eyes, his voice dripping with disbelief.

"You'd be allowed communication with her: phone calls, video chats, etc. I'm sure for holidays or birthdays, we'd be able to-"

"NO!" Will shot up, knocking his chair away, striding to the other side of the deck. "I'm not abandoning her!"

"It is in no way, shape, or form-" Bria tried to tell him before his sarcastic cackle cut her off.

"Do you think she'll understand that? Do you think a child is going to understand what a judge legally forces me to do or is she just going to think…?" Elizabeth heard the fury in his voice, heard the small boy behind it. "She's going to think her father didn't want her anymore."

"No, she won't."

"Bria, you can't know-"

"I do, because it's never going to get that far. Lucy's never getting on a plane to Seattle because when I go into that courtroom in two weeks, I am going to lay waste to Rebecca Wilson," she promised, her tone blazing something Elizabeth had never encountered before. "I will prove beyond any doubt that that child belongs with you and only you; that tearing her away would destroy her; and that even if the judge was inclined to give Ms. Wilson the benefit of that doubt, Rebecca is a malignant parasite that will put her own needs over Lucy's without a second's hesitation. I'll unearth every misdeed she's ever done and trot them all out in the court to haunt her for the rest of her time." She stood with Will and smoothed out the wrinkles of her skirt. "If you have any qualms about me doing that to the woman who gave you Lucy, speak up now."

"No," Elizabeth replied at once. "None at all."

Will's eyes met her own and though she saw the fierceness in them she had recognized whenever Lucy's wellbeing was concerned, there was a small drop of guilt mixed in with it. Destroying people wasn't in Will's nature. It was normally one of the things she loved most about him, but she needed him to erase it from his conscience from here on out.

This was war. Lucy was the prize and there was no consolation for second place.

"I know you said…I know you don't want it discussed, but if I went to Rebecca on my own, before the mediation, and offered her-"

"Stop," Bria said, holding up her hand. "I get it: you don't want Lucy to find out someday how nasty this had to get. I understand but we're beyond it now. Teach made it very clear to the judge that she suspected that you or Jack or someone else would attempt bribery. Judge Dalma signed off on the accountant, like I said she would, and every bank account of anyone you're close with is being watched as well, just like I said it would. We're playing by the judge's rules now. None of us are above her, not even the famous Captain Jack Sparrow or Hank DeMarcus. Our focus has to be on building you up while tearing Rebecca down because I guarantee you that that'll be Teach's strategy for us. Got it?"

Reluctantly, Will nodded. "So, then I guess Anamaria can watch Lucy tomorrow while the three of us-"

"Two." Bria shot Elizabeth an apologetic look. "It's just a matter of procedure. You don't have any legal claim in this case. Obviously, when the hearing starts, you'll be there front and center because of how important you are but a mediation is supposed to be more informal so it's better if it's just Will."

"Of course." Her acquiescence surprised the pair of them, so she threw out the first answer she thought of. "Judge's rules, right? Whatever we need to do to make a good impression, that's what we'll do if it'll keep Lucy here with all of us."

She hoped she sounded believable. She needed to be. They couldn't catch wind of what she was planning. They'd lose their plausible deniability if she were caught.

But she wouldn't be. She'd be careful. She'd ease Will tonight when his nerves for the mediation needed to be unburdened. She'd make him a hearty breakfast before he left. She'd make sure Lucy's hair ribbons were tied perfectly straight when she left her with Anamaria at the café, feigning exhaustion from the ordeal and the pregnancy. She'd play her part perfectly, arousing the suspicions of no one until she was free from their distracted eyes to go ask the help of someone even the judge couldn't overrule.

Walking through the lobby of the Strathwood, she willed herself to relax. Father simply thought she was coming over for a private lunch. The situation would have to be explained carefully, lest she give him more reason to doubt Will's honor. Knocking on the door of his suite, she was still planning the words when James answered.

"Elizabeth." He ushered her inside, scribbling something into his thick day planner as he did. "You father is waiting on the balcony."

"Thank you."

Something in her expression pulled his focus onto her. "Is everything all right?"

She'd forgotten how well he knew her. All of the trouble she had caused when she was a teenager had thrust them together for many an awkward ride home from police stations and boarding schools. When he had been younger, before working so long in European politics had molded much of the humanity out of him, he had been kinder, more compassionate with her in an effort to offer some kind of help. It was only after two solid years of rebuffing him that he had begun to treat her as a petulant child; just a part of his job that he'd deal with instead of a person crying out silently for someone to listen to her fears and traumas.

"I'm fine," she replied tightly. At his silence, she shrugged, fingering the strap of her purse. "I just…I need to ask for Father's help with something. It doesn't feel easy to do when we've only started speaking again a few weeks ago but I…I'm a bit desperate."

"He's very eager to have a relationship with you again, a better one than before," James tried to assure her. "I'm sure it'll all be fine. I'll see to it that you two aren't disturbed by any work matters."

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"Of course." Clumsily realigning a button on his vest, he smiled a little. "If I may, it's good to see you so…settled here. You seem much happier."

His thoughtfulness – made only slightly bumbling by his innate Britishness – was sweet. "I am. I hope Father sees that too."

"Only a blind man couldn't."

"Elizabeth?" She heard her father call out from the balcony. "Is that you?"

"Best of luck to you," James nodded in farewell as she breathed deeply to calm her heart, walking through the French glass doors, only for that wild heart to leap back into her throat when she stepped outside to find Cutler Beckett standing beside her father's chair as he signed a series of documents in quick succession.

 _What the fuck?! I thought…Father said…He promised…_

Her scattered thoughts had only just jumbled together when the oily man strode past her, barely sparing her a scathing glance as Father stood to kiss her frozen cheek.

"It's so good to see you, darling. I'm so grateful I was able to schedule a few more days here before returning home. I want to hear all about the baby shower. What do you fancy for lunch? I ordered turtle soup for an appetizer. It's actually quite-"

"What was he doing here?" Elizabeth hated how shrill she sounded, her voice carrying loudly into the humid air. "H-How is he-?"

"Cutler's arranging security details for when we go to the EU next Monday," Father said simply, leading her by the shoulder to her chair, slipping her suddenly limp body into it. "There's so much chaos on the continent these days with the rise of these protests groups. We might have to start taking harsher measures with them soon before it gets out of hand."

"Well, if you want harsh measures Beckett is your man," Elizabeth hissed. "I can personally attest to that."

"Darling, I didn't mean-"

"He accosted me. Your only daughter, your **pregnant** daughter. You told me you had fired him."

"No, I told you that **you** wouldn't have to have contact with him anymore and I promise you that is the case but Elizabeth, the man has worked for me for over fifteen years. I can't dismiss him over one terrible lapse in judgment."

She glowered as a waiter appeared to silently arrange their first course in front of them, searching her father's face for any sign he understood how deeply he had just wounded her. Like so many times before, her pain was unknown to him. Instead of crushing her, though, it filled her with anger, anger she no longer wished to hide from the world or from him.

Her mouth was ready to spew fire when the waiter muttered, "Turtle soup, sir, ma'am. Please enjoy."

 _Lucy wants a turtle for her birthday_ , she thought aimlessly. _Will keeps saying she's too young for a pet, but she went around him to Jack. He'll probably buy her one of those snapping ones that's bigger than she is._

Lucy was why she was here. Lucy was more important than throwing what her father would only consider a tantrum. Lucy was more important than her emotional health.

She was more important than anything in the world.

"I'm sorry that I yelled," she said woodenly, picking up a spoon to stir in the dark liquid. "I just wasn't expecting to see him here now."

"And I apologize for not being clearer about my intentions for Beckett earlier." He gave her a gentle half-smile. "It seems we are quite out of practice with communicating."

If only he knew the half of it. Biting back her scoff, she nodded sagely. "Too true, Father. So, tell me then, how was Brazil?"

"Oh, the meetings were fine; the heat was dreadful." He began a long soliloquy of the business he had conducted in South America, breaking up only sporadically for new courses to be laid out and to give Elizabeth a chance to ask a question to allow him to continue, seemingly paying no attention to the fact that her mind was elsewhere; specifically in room in Kingston where Will was sitting somewhere with Rebecca, speaking for the first time in years about the future of the little girl they had created together.

 _Stop it_ , she thought, gripping her glass of water so tightly she feared it would shatter. _Don't think about him being near her…being close enough that she could reach out and touch him…being able to whisper his name tenderly if she so desired…_

"Darling, what's wrong?" Elizabeth blinked, seeing her father stare at her with such concern that she realized her mask must have slipped. She didn't even know what this Rebecca looked like and now she was infiltrating every part of Elizabeth's life that was good and pure.

But Elizabeth was no longer a wilting flower that hid from the sun. She was a pirate that fought fiercely and ruthlessly for what was hers, and that started right now.

"I need your help," she told her father without preamble. With quiet fervor, she explained the situation with Lucy as succinctly as she could, clasping and unclasping her fingers under the table while her father continued to look at her as if she were outlining a plan for tax reform or strategizing about a vote in Parliament. When she finally finished, he took a long sip of his Merlot, blotting his mouth with his linen napkin until Elizabeth couldn't stand it anymore. "Is there anything you can do?"

"In terms of what, exactly?"

"Will's best friend, Jack, has an awful history with Rebecca's lawyer. If this gets to a courtroom, Bria is certain it will get bloody and at the end of it all, there's still a good chance…" She shuddered despite the searing afternoon heat. "We're all being watched closely, even Hank DeMarcus, so that puts bribery out of the question. It will destroy Will if he has to lose his daughter for months at a time. There has to be a way to end it before it gets that far."

Her father nodded slowly, leaning back in contemplation. "Are you asking me to use what influence I have through my political connections to make sure the judge rules in Will's favor?"

"Yes."

With a sigh, he reached over, taking her shaking hands in his. "You know that I can't."

"Father, please-"

"What's more, you knew that when you called to arrange this lunch. An official who trades professional favors for personal gain has no business holding that position. I've told you this at least a hundred times since you were a babe."

"How many scraps did you get me out of when I was a teenager?"

"You were a troubled girl trying to impress her peers and find her place in the world, not an adult who should have made much more of an effort to ensure the legal protections of someone who he claimed was so precious to him."

"Do not start with that, not now."

"I'm sorry." He stroked her cheek. "I'm a hypocrite, I know. It's what being a parent is: doing whatever you can to make sure your children are safe, scruples be damned. Perhaps you're right in that asking you to be released from a speeding ticket or truancy charge with the seal of the British government behind me was questionable but trying to keep a child away from a mother who might truly love her is a line that shouldn't and can't be crossed."

Her vision blurred slightly as her eyes watered and sucked in a breath to hold the tears back. "I'm scared," she admitted in a small voice. "I'm so scared of losing her, of what it'll do to Will…of what **I'll** be if I can't see her for months at a time. There has to be a way to keep her here with us."

"You and I both know how utterly tenacious Brianna is when presented with a challenge." He smiled fondly. "Need I remind you of the Christmas duck incident?"

"Oh Lord," Elizabeth remembered with a tiny smile of her own. "There were feathers everywhere."

"That poor bird was just the first of her many conquests and she's only gotten more frightening since then. I have no doubt she will more than hold her own against an old girlfriend of this Jack character." His smile became softer, like when she was a child, and she found herself nuzzling into his touch. "I fear what you gained from me with my pragmatism came at the cost of your mother's hopeful spirit. Even…Even at the end, she saw a wonderful life ahead for you, one full of joy and promise in the good of things. Don't let go of it now. If your William is as good a father as you say he is, the judge will see that, and all will be well."

Slowly, she nodded, her optimism buoyed ever so by her father's advice. If Weatherby Swann, a man who knew the harshness of the world firsthand, saw there was hope, then it had to exist. "I'm sorry for coming and making a fool of myself. This pregnancy…It's making me think and want the strangest things sometimes."

"It is a curious thing what it does to your gender. Do you know when your mother was carrying you, she craved peanut butter on all manner of things?"

"Really?" Elizabeth beamed for the first time in what like years. "So do I!"

"You are not serious," he said with a playful glare.

"Just yesterday, I mixed it with an avocado and dipped pretzels into it for dinner. Will said it smelled ghastly, but it was delicious."

"On that, I will agree with him, though I will keep it in mind for the next time we dine together, hopefully very soon." He lightly pecked her cheek and gently helped her up from the chair. "Unfortunately, I have a conference call in about five minutes I must prepare for."

"I didn't mean to take up so much time." She pulled him into a tight hug, smiling against his shoulder. "Thank you for seeing me. I needed this talk more than you know."

"My dear girl, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you or my grandson." He patted her stomach affectionately. "Do you think he'll imagine me too much of an old-fashioned curmudgeon if I have him call me Grandfather?"

"As long as you spoil him, I think he'll call you whatever you want." With one last kiss, she waved goodbye. "I'll call later."

"Goodbye, darling."

Smiling brightly at James as she left the suite, Elizabeth pressed a hand to her chest as she waited for the lift, feeling the tightness in it ease just a touch. Everything with Rebecca was still up in the air, but her father was right; she couldn't go through life always expecting the worst to come about. It wasn't healthy and it wasn't how she wanted her son to think when he grew.

 _Your grandfather is very wise, Shelf_ , she told him in her thoughts as she stepped into the empty lift, leaning back against the wood paneling as she idly stroked him. _You'd do well to listen to him, and of course your father. He'll teach you to be a proper man, a good man, one a woman would want someday. Now, if Jack starts trying to teach you how to treat a lady, you best tell me right away because –_

Elizabeth stilled her hand, feeling it freeze as her eyes stared blindly ahead. The lift stopped to open its doors to a couple arguing in French, but Elizabeth paid them no attention, nor did she notice when the doors opened again to the lobby. She did not exit with them or move when more people came onboard and then departed on their room floors.

Up and down she went, never moving, barely breathing as words and conclusions raced through her mind, looking for any bend, any type of give to offer her an escape.

"It's not what you think," she muttered when she was alone again. "It's something else."

It wasn't true.

It **couldn't** be true.

Except, somehow, it was.

When the answer could no longer be ignored, on what must have been her tenth or eleventh trip through the hotel, Elizabeth stabbed the button for the penthouse suite floor. Her phone began buzzing in her purse and with a quick look to see Will's name, she shut it off, not trusting what she'd be able to say to him.

This was for her to fight. If she let him, he'd wind up in jail for manslaughter and they'd lose Lucy forever.

The door opened and Elizabeth flew out of the carriage, stalking down the hallway, her breath now coming out in small pants as she tried to control her nervous system. Pounding on the door, it blurred in front of her through unshed tears.

James did a sharp doubletake when he answered. "Elizabeth, what's-?"

"Where is he?" Shoving past him, Elizabeth scanned through the room until she saw the next closed door and went to it, ignoring James's concerned pleas and wrenching it wide open herself to find her father on the phone in a bedroom turned into a conference center with laptops and files covering the tables, Beckett beside him, both stunned into silence as Elizabeth walked in and slammed the receiver down.

"Excuse me, but that was the Prime Minister that you just-" Beckett's rant died at Weatherby Swann's raised hand, silencing him as he looked on his daughter with deep concern.

"Darling, what on Earth are you doing?!"

She still couldn't speak. Her teeth chattered almost audibly. She could feel the air whirling around her uncontrollably, roaring in her ears like a freight train as she stared at her father head-on. She felt James place a hand on her arm, asking her what was wrong, but it was Beckett she heard speak.

"Sir, I can phone a doctor. Perhaps she's in need of some type of sedation."

"There's no need for that." He came before her again, touching her face once more as if to check her temperature. Only now, instead of comfort, his touch burned something awful. "James, fetch her a glass of water. This heat is-"

"How did you know it was a girlfriend?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said, how did you know it was a girlfriend?" Elizabeth repeated, enunciating her words to keep from screeching them.

"What are you talking about?"

"When I was telling you about the lawyer working for Lucy's…working for Will's ex-girlfriend, I said it was someone who had an awful history with Jack. How did you know it was a woman and that he dated her?"

"Because you said so. You were upset, you must have just forgotten."

"No," she shook her head calmly. "I didn't tell you. How did you know?"

"Elizabeth, let's speak privately in the master bedroom. You look like you need to lay down."

Jerking away from him, she stood her ground even as the world shattered around her into a million pieces. "What. Did. You. Do?"

All at once, the façade of her father faded away and was replaced with Weatherby Swann. Her father had looked on her sweetly, dotingly, with great reverence and affection but Weatherby Swann…Weatherby Swann looked on her as if he could see right through her, to every dark thought and bit of pain, except unlike any normal person, he didn't care.

A lifetime of memories, of small moments here and there, raced through Elizabeth's head on a loop: scolding looks; derisive comments made with light tones; the sharp turns in education, friends, boyfriends, even fashion she had chosen once her father had uttered a single word of displeasure. It was all she had known, choosing him over herself, because that's what a daughter did to earn her father's love.

Until Will.

Until she saw what it was like when a father truly loved his daughter.

Until she realized too late what Weatherby Swann thought of her as.

Her own father studied her, searching for the girl he had molded, and upon not finding her, spoke with a calm frankness he never used with her before now. "I hadn't planned on you being a part of this whole ordeal," he began, straightening her disheveled hair behind her shoulders. "After dear Brianna laid out the legal quandaries for Mr. Turner, Beckett would approach him with a reasonable solution: his daughter for my daughter. He'd end his relationship with you, swiftly and definitively, and we'd convince the girl's mother to drop the custody suit."

"Oh dear God," Elizabeth moaned, squeezing her eyes shut in horror. "H-How did you..?"

"It wasn't hard to track Ms. Wilson down," Beckett chimed in. "What was surprising was how eagerly she agreed to the arrangement. I believe there was a part of her that was quite eager to be reunited with the child. All she needed was the proper financing, which we were happy to provide, as well as finding appropriate counsel." His smirk turned particularly vicious. "Tell me, what did that miscreant's face look like when he found out his former paramour was working against the man he considers a brother?"

"These are people!" Elizabeth spat out, enraged over the lengths that had been taken to hurt those who had become so dear to her. "Good, decent people and you are playing games with their lives! And Lucy…" Growling, she lunged forward to Beckett, ready to air out years of frustrations physically until her father gripped her shoulders firmly.

"Elizabeth, listen to me." He waited for her full, wide-eyed attention. "Lucy Turner is a lovely, sweet, and happy little girl. She's that way because of her father. For all his shortcomings, young William is a fine parent. She belongs with him, here, as you belong home in London with me."

"He will fight," she vowed furiously. "He and Brianna will fight to make sure that Lucy stays with us!"

"And they will lose, Ms. Swann. They will lose and Lucy will have to spend significant time, unsupervised, with a woman who suffers from a terrible disease that can strike back at any moment." She froze in terror as his words struck fast. Sighing softly, her father cupped her cheek once more while Beckett continued, "What would happen to that poor child if she were driving with her mother while the woman was high on heroin? Or if she went into a rage of withdrawal? Or if that deranged mother, in desperation for another fix, gave a six-year-old girl to depraved pedophiles in exchange for a bit of money? Do you think she'd be such happy little girl then?"

Elizabeth only just managed to hold back the bile that rose in her throat at such an idea. "Y-Y-You're monsters," she finally managed to whisper to her father when she had control again. "You are disgusting, wicked monsters if you could ever think to use a child this way."

"No, darling, I'm a hypocrite, remember?" How he could smile even a little was beyond Elizabeth's reasoning. "It's what being a parent is, making difficult, sometimes immoral choices to do what's right for those we love the most. Come home with us and it will never have to go to that far. We'll find you a decent man, a respectable man of good standing, to marry you and raise the baby as his own. You'll have your boy and Will can have his daughter. It's a fair offer to consider." Stepping back slightly, he pecked her cheek again and Elizabeth had to fight anew to keep from vomiting. "We leave for London at the end of the week. Think this over very carefully."

"Or what?"

"You have your mother's heart," he said, surprising her. "It loves so big when it chooses to. It's chosen many people here, hasn't it? Captain Sparrow, Anamaria, Mr. Gibbs, and all the rest…I should hate for it to be broken further if anything happened to them." He turned away, back to the desk and the papers Beckett handed him, and Elizabeth shot wary daggers at his back with her eyes.

"She knew, didn't she?" He paused in picking up the receiver. "Mum could see part of how evil you were, deep down, and it killed her slowly that she had given that big heart to someone who didn't deserve it. When it got too much to bear, she ended it but not before she tried to make me strong enough to stand up to you." She sniffled loudly, her father's posture not even stiffening. "You drove your beloved wife to suicide yet the lesson you learn from it is threaten your daughter to keep her in your control." She waited for him to speak, her tears silently cascading down her face. "Nothing to say to that, Father?"

"I have an important phone call to make about tariffs on soybeans, Elizabeth, and you have a great deal of goodbyes you need to begin saying to people," he finally replied, placing the phone to his ear, once again indifferent to his only child's torment. "We'll see each other at the end of the week, darling."

"Oh yes, we shall," Beckett added with his customary sneer before he refocused on the politics of Europe, both men silently dismissing Elizabeth.

The urge to crumble to the ground was tempting. Trembling, she somehow managed to begin walking backwards out of the room, only tripping when she stumbled into James.

"Elizabeth, I…I…" For the first time since she had known him, he seemed dumbfounded. "I don't know-"

"Don't touch me!" she cried in a whisper when they were in the main part of the suite. She kept backing away to the door as he followed. "Stay away from me!"

"I swear I had no idea that they…J-Just give me a moment to-"

"To what?! Ring a doctor to have me sedated? Shipped back to London unconscious? Declared unfit once I get there so he can rip my son away and torture him the way he did me?! I should wait for that?!" Fumbling with the handle until it turned, she spilled into the hallway and raced to the lift, franticly mashing the button, looking for any escape.

 _Get me out of here_ , she prayed, her back and stomach seizing painfully. _Get me home to Will. Everything's fine when I'm with him. Just get to Will._

"Please, Elizabeth, please stop and let me help you," James wheezed when he caught up to her. "We can talk this through. Your father-"

With all her might, she drew a fist back and connected with the side of James's jaw, sending him flying to the ground in shock, the pain in her hand a welcome distraction from the pain everywhere else in her body and mind. Before he could right himself, the doors opened and she stepped inside. "Come near me again and I'll have something much more lethal in my hand," she told his prone form as the lift closed, leaving her safe in side.

Or was she? Was she being watched all the time? Did her father have trackers following her? Or Will and Lucy? Were they in actual physical danger? Was her father that ruthless and demented?

After today, Elizabeth wasn't sure. The world had been one place before she came to the Strathwood for lunch and now it was another.

A much scarier one that she didn't know how to navigate.

Somehow, she made it out of the hotel. Somehow, she made it to her car and managed to drive it until she was at the end of a secluded dirt path not far from her midwife's. Leaning back against the seat, she wrapped her arms around her belly and clung tightly to her son.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him. "I'm so sorry you had to hear all that, my poor boy. It's going to be alright. It's…I'll find a way out of it. I…I…"

 _Well, that's not something you can promise him now, is it?_

If she went back to London, she'd lose Will and Lucy while knowingly putting her baby's future in her father's hands. But if she stayed and tried to fight the power he wielded, the risk was far greater that something horrible could happen to Lucy.

How could she chose? How could either she or Will chose which child to protect at the expense of the other?

Her phone rang again. Warily checking it, she found Will's name once more, wanting to update her on the case or, given how late the hour was getting, wanting to know she was safe.

Unable to suppress it any more, she screamed out her hopeless frustrations in the confines of the jeep.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: I know many readers think I love torture, but I don't. If you can hang on to the end of this one, you will be rewarded. Thank you again for reading and if you care to, I'd love to know what you think. Please enjoy!**

* * *

Looking at the overhead clock, Will sighed again and fidgeted in the chair for what felt like the fiftieth time that day. Nothing about today felt right: not his still-short hair, nor the unrelenting humidity of the air outside the stale tan walls, and definitely not the itchy, name-brand suit Bria had thrown at him in the garment bag when she met him at the courthouse. Nothing about this day was going right, but Will knew he had to suck it all up and endure it.

His daughter was counting on him, even if she didn't know it yet.

"Tell me again why we had to get here so early," Will whispered to Bria as she sat next to him in the conference room, even though they were the only two in it at the moment. The first session with the mediator wasn't due to start for fifteen minutes and they had already been sitting there for twenty.

"Because," she explained, focusing more on what she was typing into her laptop than on him, "we are on the battlefield. In the annals of history, how many armies won when they arrived last? How many didn't get immediately slaughtered by a surprise attack? Any meeting, any court sessions, any time the mediator or judge wants even their shoes shined, we are the first ones here, always before the vindictive bitch and her lawyer."

"Rebecca."

"It's better if you don't think of her as a person from here on in. She's simply chum; meaty, bloody chum that I'm going to swallow whole."

"That's a healthy attitude."

"Trust me, you'll sleep better at night."

Will snorted. "That's how you do your job? People aren't people anymore?"

"No, I drink myself into unconsciousness after whoring the night away with whomever I can find to distract me from the tears and broken hearts I caused during the day." He eyed her sideways, seeing her in a new light while she kept typing. She shrugged off his sympathy. "What can I say? Like you, I have my education, my own skills. This is just how I use them."

Never one to pry but needing a distraction from the encounter that was approaching as each minute passed, he asked, "And it makes you happy?"

"It did, actually, until Lizzie went and encountered your bait and tackle there," she said, pulling her gaze away to stare pointedly at his crotch for a quick beat before returning to the screen. "Now she's here, leaving me without her goodness to balance out all the dark I carry with me, so I've found myself at a bit of a crossroads these past months. I've come to think it's not good for what's left of my soul if I keep doing this job much longer and yet, I find myself facing that existential question that plagues us all when a career needs to change."

"Who am I going to be if I'm no longer defined by this one thing anymore?" Will guessed.

Now it was her turn to eye him sideways, although there was a bit of disgust in her look. "No, you numpty. How am I going to buy things?"

"Ah, there you are. I worried for a moment you had been replaced by a pod person."

"Hey, I have very specific and expensive tastes. Do you know many schoolmarms or shop owners that blow a year's rent during one trip to Yves Saint Laurent?"

"I thought Elizabeth said your family was rich, though."

"Yes, they are, but most of them can't stand me, except for my grandmother, and frankly I haven't the faintest idea why those pill-popping, imbecilic, fat arses think I'm beneath them."

"It's a mystery."

"Although, perhaps this case will be reinvigorating for me. Helping someone keep their kid who actually deserves them might just kick me back into gear."

"That is probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"By 'deserves' I mean in the sense it's between you and someone who had to be physically stopped from injecting heroin into their bloodstream while nearly eight months pregnant, according to what Jack told me."

"Yeah," Will said with a grimace, remembering that night perfectly and too many others like it. Worrying his thumbnail, he finally asked, "How official are these sessions going to be? Like, will there be records kept, transcripts and all? Because I don't think-"

"She's going to find out someday, Will." Bria closed her laptop and turned in her seat towards him. She waited until nodded slowly in acceptance. "Lucy is going to know someday that her life meant less to her mum than getting high. You can't prevent it, only delay it a good long while until she'll be old enough to understand that it had nothing to do with her."

At this, he exhaled a long breath. "Doesn't mean she won't think it was somehow all her fault. That you can trust me on."

"Aye."

The silence seeped back in between them. In it, Will remembered acutely what it had been like growing up as the child of an addict. It had never been something he had wanted to share with his own children but upon Rebecca's reentry into Lucy's life, it was something he was going to have to face. Of all the things Lucy was, curious was at the forefront. His explanation of Rebecca simply being ill wasn't going to hold water much longer, especially once they met, which was the other major worry that had been plaguing him since Bria had told him what those blasted papers were at the baby shower. Try as he might, he had never been able to visualize what the moment would be when he presented his daughter to Rebecca for the first time in six years.

Would Lucy hug her? Throw a fit? Barrage Rebecca and he both with questions they couldn't answer with her so young? Or would she be her typical self and surprise him entirely?

 _Probably the latter_ , he thought wistfully. _How worried were you when you brought Elizabeth to live here? It was seamless how well she fit in. Like Lucy was just waiting for her to show up all these years._

Unable to sit, Will began walking a slow lap around the table. Sticking his hand in his pocket, the engagement ring rolled between his fingers, reminding him sharply how badly he was failing on so many fronts. Every moment spent pondering his past with Rebecca was another he took from his future with Elizabeth, but if he didn't – if there was some random memory of her past misdeeds that he could recall that would prove how unworthy she was of being near Lucy – he'd carry the chain of regret around his neck for the rest of his life. Even as he sensed her pain, that even this morning when he kissed her goodbye there was something she was keeping from him, he couldn't afford to explore it.

For now, horrible as it felt through every inch of his being, Elizabeth had to become second to Rebecca.

Which also meant putting one of his children over the other.

 _Wonderful beginning to a better father/son relationship than you had. He's not even in your arms and you're still finding a way to make him feel like he's second-best._

Shaking his head to dislodge the dreadful idea, he vowed that he'd make it up to his still-nameless son. Taking that to heart, he began running through names once more to see if anything left an impression:

Gideon felt a bit formal; Patrick would no doubt lead to Jack christening him Paddy, simply to annoy Will; Thomas or any name beginning in "T" was too much alliteration; Joshua had possibilities but he didn't want his other mates to think he was honoring Gibbs at their expense, considering how much they had all done for him collectively since he was a boy. He needed something neutral yet something that was still worthy of a firstborn son, something that would help make him strong and proud of a legacy he'd create for himself.

A name suddenly popped into his mind and his eyebrows quirked up in pleasant surprise. "What do you think of the name Alexander?" Will asked Bria.

"For the bairn?" Her own head tilted in deliberation. "It's actually quite nice."

"Really?" Excitement took hold at the idea of his son having this first piece of his identity secured. "You think so?"

"Absolutely. It's traditional with a lot of options for nicknames. Goes well with your surname, plus I know for a fact that Lizzie has a fondness for that particular name."

"She does? She mentioned it as one she'd like?"

"No, but it'll bring back such nice memories for her considering it's the name of the first boy she ever shagged." She smiled with great joy as his shoulders slumped. "Back to the drawing board then. Don't you have any in reserve from before Lucy was born?"

"No."

"And why not?"

"Because he always knew she'd be a girl."

Will stopped in his tracks, his back to the door neither he nor Bria had noticed opening during their conversation. The voice was still so familiar even after six years, her lilting accent from growing up in Melbourne coloring her words while sending a familiar – though still unwelcome – shiver of rage creeping up his spine. Thumbing the engagement ring one last time, he put it (and God help him, Elizabeth) to the side as he slowly turned to face the mother of his first child.

For some reason, he had expected Rebecca to be the same hollowed young woman he remembered from his teenage years. Yet standing before him was someone else entirely: ocean-blue eyes focused, not sunken in with dark circles under them; skin that actually looked healthy, though slightly paler now; her posture was straighter, the loose cotton blouse and long skirt actually fitting her lithe frame, and her face was no longer the emaciated mask of anger and sadness it had been during the few times he had seen her holding Lucy. Still, it was the hair that captivated all his focus. Now that it was pulled into a long braid that hung on her shoulder down past her waist, it looked much closer to his daughter's than the tangled, unwashed mass it once was.

Contrary to his lawyer's advice, Rebecca was a person. A person that Lucy had a bond with, even if they were strangers now.

For all her warnings, Will suddenly understood exactly how hard Bria said this whole process would be.

"Hello," Rebecca said to him quietly after he didn't speak.

Seeing as there was no way to avoid this now, Will replied in kind. "Hi."

"You changed your hair," she finally said when neither could find anything to say in the sea of unspoken words between them.

"So did you."

She nodded, playing with the end of the braid. "Changed much more than that, Will. I promise."

Before he could answer, Bria rose and strode to her, extending a hand. "Ms. Wilson, I'm Bria McKendrick. I'm Mr. Turner's counsel."

"Please call me Rebecca," she said as the shook hands.

"No, I don't think I will, and you can please refer to me as Ms. McKendrick. Now, is your counsel here or will this meeting be delayed by her tardiness?"

"Uh, no she's just in the restroom." She glanced at him quickly. "I was actually hoping to speak with Will privately for a moment."

"I'm afraid that's not possible."

Rebecca ignored her in favor of asking him directly, "Please, Will? Trust me, I'm not trying to trap you or anything. I just want to talk."

He didn't need to see Bria's subtle head shake to know what his answer was. Fists clenching inside his pocket, he told her, "Trust isn't something I'm capable of with you anymore. Anything you say to me is said in front of her."

"Very wise advice." Another voice joined their room, this one unfamiliar to him as she stepped to Rebecca's side with ease. The petite woman of Spanish descent was one he recognized only from photos, as Angelica Teach's relationship with Jack had ended long before Will appeared in Arbor Bay. Still, from the confident poise she carried herself with and the gleam of danger in her dark eyes, it didn't surprise him in the least that this was someone Jack had become enamored with. "Advice I tried to drill into my own client, with less success."

"Well, we all have our deficiencies, don't we?" Bria said condescendingly.

"Some more than others," Angelica replied without hesitation, sparring verbally with ease. "Shall we sit? I ran into the mediator, he is just taking a phone call and then we can start."

The foursome shuffled awkwardly around the table, all trying to avoid eye contact with their opposition. The lawyers prepared by arranging their legal pads and pens while their clients sat restlessly beside them. The tension settled back over them like a blanketing fog, thickening to the point where Will thought he might suffocate. Unable to stop himself, he blurted out, "Why are you doing this? Why did you come back?"

"Will, don't-" Bria tried to stop him, but he plowed on.

"No, I need to know why this is happening to my life right now. I think I'm entitled to know why…" He trailed off when Rebecca closed her eyes and chuckled slightly. Feeling his ire spike to the heavens, he asked, "Did I say something amusing in this whole godforsaken travesty you've started?"

"No, not at all." Her laughter ended with a small sigh and she looked on him with something that resembled pity. "I'm just simply amazed how little you've changed after so long. Everything still boils down to how it affects you. Nothing else matters unless you're getting what you want. Lord help anyone who stands in the way of that."

Her analysis stunned him. She actually had the gall to call him selfish? "So, let me get this straight: having you move in with me, working sometimes three jobs at a time to support you so you wouldn't feel stressed about money, doing everything I could think of to help you get sober, that was all for me? Are you fucking serious?"

"You didn't do that because you gave a damn about me, you did it to protect the vessel carrying your baby." Her mouth became a hard line. "Because that's all I was to you at that point and you never let me forget it."

"Jesus Christ, you're demented."

"Oh, am I?"

"I tired to reach you, damn it!" He took a deep breath through his nose to steady himself. "I tried to talk with you so many times, to get you to connect to me and our child but you wouldn't budge an inch. You pushed me away at every turn, even if all I wanted was to feel the baby kicking. Not to mention, if memory serves, you were the one that walked away in disgust when I kneeled in front of you with a ring."

"Because when a girl is proposed to, she'd actually like it if the man was doing it out of love."

"I…" Will started to answer before Elizabeth's face flashed behind his eyes, her smile warm and sleepy as she woke. What he had once felt for Rebecca was a drop on a shadow compared to what he had now with Elizabeth.

It wasn't fair to either woman to pretend otherwise.

When he stopped, Rebecca nodded smugly. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Face it, Will, you always meant more to me then I did to you. You…" Will watched her swallow deeply, bitterness giving way to melancholy, "You were the first person I ever loved, the first one I was ever able to, even if I admittedly did a shit job of showing it. To me, we had something real but for you, I was only the girl you had the most fun screwing and getting high with." She tried to brush it off with indifference, but Will saw her pain, much more clearly now that she wasn't hiding behind a snarl and drugs. "I knew it, always did. I guess I just thought it was better than anything else I could have, even with all the fighting and drama we created together. You're only here now with me because that stupid condom broke our last time before you went on the fishing trip."

He felt the sting of guilt from her description, recognizing the truth of it, one-sided as it was. Later, it would fester in his stomach, but now there were other truths to deal with. "No, **we're** here now because after six years you decided that Lucy needed her world thrown into chaos."

"Wrong again. I'm here because she needs her mother."

Something about hearing her say the words grated at the back of Will's skull. It was just so…wrong. There was no other way to describe it.

That title didn't belong to her, not after what she had done.

The door opened again, halting what would have surely been a nasty retort on his part and Will turned to find a middle-aged man with no jacket carrying a heavy folder, his shirt sleeves rolled up and bow tie slightly askew, smiling pleasantly at the motely crew assembled. "Good day to you all. I'm Jacob Teague. I've been assigned by the Honorable Judge Tiana Dalma to lead these mediation sessions." Quick introductions were made by all and he sat at the head of the table, putting on a pair of tiny glasses that perched on the bridge of his nose as he opened the folder and began skimming. "Now, to start off, I keep these sessions rather informal: no stenographer, no tape recordings, the parties stay on a first name basis, and the lawyers interject as little as possible. I like to make this as casual as possible and I ask in return that you conduct yourselves with decorum. Understood?" He waited for everyone to nod before continuing. "Excellent. Are there any questions before we begin?"

"None, sir," Angelica replied as Bria opened her mouth. "I only thank you for taking the time to put us at ease. Not many mediators are that considerate."

"Well, thank you, Ms. Teach. I hope neither of the lawyers are offended if we stay a bit formal with you two, just so we can stay professional."

"Not at all, Mr. Teague," Bria chimed in, smiling brightly at him. "Boundaries are paramount in these matters, after all. It's wonderful to see you realize it."

"I agree, Ms. McKendrick, and if you are both done trying to curry my favor we can get started." He read for a few beats more before turning to Will. "How are you today, young man?"

"Fine, sir."

"Jacob."

"I'm fine, Jacob."

"Really? You're not angry or frustrated or ready to tear the room apart? Because I think I would be in your shoes."

"I suppose I am, but it wouldn't do my daughter any good if I gave into that so I'm trying to be calm. With great effort," he admitted.

Jacob nodded promptly. "And you, Rebecca? How are you feeling?"

"Nervous. Anxious. Maybe a little…scared, I guess."

"Normal then. Perfectly normal in this situation. I want to make one last thing very clear to the both of you: whatever your past is, it has no place here. According to all documentation I have, there was no abuse in your relationship, just a fair amount of dysfunction. Am I correct?" They each nodded. "This room is not a place for you to extract revenge or assuage any hurt feelings left over from your time together. What we are going to try to do is work together to give Lucy the best possible chance at having a strong relationship with both of you that betters her life. Because she's the only one that matters in here. Can you both agree to that?" Again, they nodded. "Excellent. Now, I'd like each of you, in your own words, to tell me how we got here now."

The next several hours were spent rehashing the tumultuous pairing of Will Turner and Rebecca Wilson, an epic of comic or tragic proportions depending on the audience. For the most part, they let each other speak freely of their few highs and many lows, but occasionally opinions varied greatly on certain memories. Comments were made, voices raised, and when things seemed ready to boil over, Jacob stepped in to redirect them. Bria and Angelica busied themselves by each taking conspicuously detailed notes until, at last, they were at the aforementioned here and now.

Jacob finished writing his own notes, reading them over carefully. He glanced over at Rebecca, studying her before asking the question she had refused to answer for Will. "Why did you decide to come back after six years?"

"It's hard to explain," she said after a long moment. "I mean, hard for anyone to understand if they're not an addict, like I am. I spent the four years after I left…" Rebecca shook her head slightly as if to clear it. "I should say, after I abandoned my daughter. Because that's what I actually did."

"Yes," Will said quietly, staring her down, unable to let it go when he remembered what his infant daughter's shrill cries had sounded like the night he found her. Lucy had been so starving she nearly choked on the bottle Will gave her. "All alone where anything could have happened to her."

"I know." Rebecca's answer was equally as quiet. She only took his condemning gaze a few seconds until she glanced down at her hands again. "If it makes you feel better, you'll never hate me more than I hate myself."

"Try me." Bria laid her hand on his wrist to halt any more outbursts, squeezing it gently but firmly. He got the message and let Rebecca keep speaking.

"I did nothing for those four years except wander through the Caribbean, killing myself a little every day. I did…things to myself with drugs, for drugs that I wish I could forget. Finally, I reached my breaking point and I was lucky enough to get a spot at a treatment facility in America, far away from any temptation. I've been sober since then: seventeen months, three days, and fourteen hours."

"Quite accurate with that time," Jacob commented.

"I have to be. Time is an important part of recovery. Reminding yourself every day how far you've come can be the difference in stopping you from blowing it all after a bad date or a shitty day at work. But sometimes it's the killer itself because it rears its head when you least expect it." Swiping a lone tear away, she dug through her bag until she pulled out a rolled-up magazine to lay on the table. Instantly, Will knew what it was. "A friend I met in treatment works for the publishing company and sent it to me."

"The interview I gave to _Sailing World_ ," he said dully, cursing Hank, true, but cursing himself more for agreeing to it. "With the picture of Lucy that made you remember you had a daughter in the first place."

"I always thought of her, Will. Not a day or night went by when I didn't miss her. When I was using, I knew I was no good to her and I needed to be solid in my recovery before I came back. It just…I never realized how much time had gone by, with her I mean. I somehow still imagined her as a baby, not as a little girl growing every day, needing her mother more and more."

Will bristled again at that word coming from her mouth. Did she think Lucy was deprived in some way that only she could cure? It was utter bull. Lucy was adored and reaped the benefits of that love every day. He felt himself about to let loose an epic rebuke when Bria spoke up first.

"If I may, Rebecca, in regard to your recovery, my client and I have a few questions, if you don't mind," she said Jacob, smiling benevolently. At his nod, she asked Rebecca, "You said you received treatment in America, at a facility called Hope's Promise, if my research is correct, yes?"

"Uh-huh."

"The research also showed it's quite an expensive program and that it's private, meaning they don't take indigent cases likes yours would have been. The records show you paid cash so I'm very curious to find out how you afforded it."

"Are you accusing my client of a crime?"

"I'm asking your client how she came by such a sum of money that saved her life; the life she wants to bring a child into now, because if that sum needs to be repaid in some way…" Bria and Jacob shared a deep look before he nodded slowly.

"Rebecca, how did you pay for your treatment?"

Her brows furrowed slightly in confusion when she addressed Will. "He didn't tell you?"

Now Will's curiosity was piqued. "Who? What are you talking about?"

Glancing at Angelica for permission, she leaned back in her chair, bracing for a reaction. "Bootstrap was the one who helped me."

Beside him, he saw Bria's lips purse in acknowledgment, but she gave no other indication of surprise, unlike Will who felt his mouth drop open in shock. "E-Excuse me?"

"Bootstrap is William Turner the First, Will's estranged father," Angelica clarified for the mediator. "They have a very poor relationship, although he's close with Mr. Sparrow. Like my client, he suffers from addiction, only with alcohol. When he himself became sober over two years ago, he sought out Rebecca and made arrangements for her in America. He also paid for everything himself, not asking for anything in return. We'll allow the treatment facility to release those payment records for the court as proof. They've had minimal contact since then."

"Just a letter here or there at the holidays or my birthday from him," Rebecca chimed in. "He lives on his boat so he's hard to keep track of."

"Did you use him to get information regarding Lucy?" Bria asked, making more notes.

"No. Whenever I asked, he said I needed to keep my focus on my own health and that she was fine with Will." There were more questions and answers, back and forth between the other four, but Will was too busy seething to pay attention.

 _Bootstrap…Good ole Bootstrap Bill Turner, making an absolute horror show of someone else's life,_ he thought, scenario after scenario running through his mind. _Was he trying to get us back together because he thought I was pining for her still? No, no, more likely the bastard was shagging her behind my back when he'd stop at home before his blessed "sobriety" took hold._ _He's just using her to stab me in the back for treating him like dog piss these years. How like him to take from me when_ _it suits him._

"Will?" He started at his name to find Jacob addressing him. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he lied, clearing his throat a bit. "I'm fine. Didn't expect that, is all."

There'd be time later to use this pent-up wrath and redirect it where it belonged; at the miserable twat who so delighted in creeping his way through Will's happiness, be it in the forms of his friends, Lucy, or even Elizabeth. Now he had other things to do, more important things.

"Good. Tell me, then, what has it been like for you these past years raising Lucy on your own?"

"I guess I'd have to start by saying I never really considered myself on my own. I've had a sort of makeshift family ever since I came here from England. We all worked hard to learn how to take care of her and I think we've done a great job: Lucy's very happy, all her teachers say what a wonderful student she is when she's in school, and she's kind." Gauging her from across the table, Will pulled out his phone and thumbed through it until he found a picture of Lucy smiling next to one of her sandcastle creations. Gingerly, he handed it to a stunned Rebecca. "She draws. All the time, ever since she could wrap her fingers around a crayon."

"Really?" There was something so hopeful about how she looked at Lucy's face that Will almost forgot what they were doing here.

Almost.

"Yeah, really. I got her an easel for her birthday."

"That's good," Rebecca beamed tearily at the screen. "That's so good. What does she like to draw the most? Landscapes, people, abstracts?"

"Um, everything I guess. It's hard to keep track of it all. I think everyone we know has at least four of her pictures on their fridges."

"Thank you." With great care, she passed the phone back, their fingers touching oh so briefly. "She's so beautiful."

"Well, as you bring up this makeshift family of yours," Angelica began, breaking up the small moment of unity with her lethal gaze fixed on him, as he braced himself for Jack to be brought up and dragged through the mud, "can you please tell us where," she paused to unnecessarily read through her notes, "Elizabeth Swann factors into it?"

"I don't understand."

"She's your girlfriend, yes?"

Why were these titles so difficult for him to hear today? "Yes, but she's not…We're committed to each other, I mean. Living together and having a baby in a few months."

"And you knew each other for how long before both of these things transpired?"

Will cursed himself, seeing how easily she had laid the trap for him. "Not very," he admitted. Silently asking Bria if he should continue and get it over with, she nodded promptly. "We had a one-night stand when she was visiting from London and she got pregnant. We decided we wanted to raise the baby together so she came to stay here, with me and Lucy, until she could find her own place. Thankfully, we realized how much we loved each other before too long and we've been happy ever since."

Again, Rebecca went back to studying her hands while he lawyer pounced. "You don't think that's a bit confusing for a young child? To have a stranger move in suddenly? To see her father in a relationship? To sharing her father with a new child?"

"If it was anyone else besides Elizabeth, maybe, but they…" He shrugged helplessly, unable to describe the bond Lucy and Elizabeth shared. "I can't explain it. They're just…They're them. They're supposed to be in each other's lives."

Whatever joy Rebecca had felt in hearing about Lucy's artistic skill vanished by the time Will finished talking. Eyes hardening to stone, she turned to Jacob. "When will I be allowed to see Lucy?"

At once, he realized his misstep and he tried to apologize. "Look, I didn't mean to imply-"

"And I didn't come here to listen to how well **our** daughter gets on with the latest woman you impregnated," she shot back at him. "I came because my only goal in life besides staying sober is being with her. I'd like to get started on that, if it's all right with you."

"What does Lucy know about Rebecca?" Jacob asked Will, shifting them from the suddenly dangerous topic of Elizabeth. "How have you explained her absence?"

"The few times it's come up, I told her that her mum left because she was sick and had to get better," he said cautiously. "Beyond that, she never asked much, at least to me."

"Then I think you should tell her what's going on as soon as possible and then we should give Lucy a little time to get used to the news before we arrange a meeting. It'll be quite an adjustment for her, Rebecca."

"Friday is her birthday. My client was hoping that she'd be able to see her for it, attend the party and celebrate it with her," Angelica suggested.

He thought of Elizabeth and Lucy making all the invitations together hunched over the table; all of the hours spent together making grand plans for Lucy's first huge party with her friends and then of all the work Elizabeth had put into it on her own once Lucy was in bed. "No, absolutely not," Will said instantly, knowing how unreasonable he sounded but not caring.

He wouldn't let Rebecca taint this for either of the two people who mattered most.

Three pairs of eyes blinked at him, one enraged and two slightly bewildered. "Will, I understand you might be reluctant to-" Jacob tried to appease before Rebecca shot forward in her seat, nostrils flared.

"I spent nearly twelve hours in labor with that child and six years to the day later you have the stones to tell me I can't see her? What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"I didn't say you couldn't see her, just not then. Not that day."

"Why not? Because it would make your precious little slut Lizzie upset?"

"Rebecca, that's not helpful," Jacob admonished sharply while Will fumed, wishing (even as it disgusted him) that a needle had finished the job before Bootstrap found her. "Remember, we're here for Lucy. The focus is her, not on whatever you might be feeling for Will or others."

"I-I-I'm trying," she said, sucking in a shaking breath, listening to whatever Angelica whispered in her ear as she slowly calmed. "I want it to be on her because she should have a chance to know her mother, especially on the anniversary of the day we share the most with. I'd like a good reason for him denying me that besides it making another woman upset."

"Simple, really," Bria said, holding up a hand to stop Will from speaking first. "It's because you're a stranger."

"I am her-"

"Legally and biologically, perhaps, but to Lucy you're nothing more than a stranger. Whatever memories are shared between you aren't hers because in your own words, you abandoned her," Bria continued unapologetically. Rebecca's eyes closed before she fell back into the chair again, her chin trembling, but Bria rolled on. "The adjustments that Jacob alluded to are real and she deserves the opportunity to make them in a peaceful environment, not during a birthday party crowded with people, many of whom love her to bits but can't stand the sight of you."

"I think you've made your point, Ms. McKendrick."

"Good, so long as it's understood by her that since she made the decision to leave her daughter without a mother, she doesn't get a unilateral say on when she gets to be introduced as one again."

Jacob let the room settle with a moment of quiet before addressing Will. "What about the Sunday after the party? Would you be willing to let Lucy meet her then?"

There were at least ten thousand penalties on the list of things he'd rather endure than bring Rebecca into Lucy's life, but he wasn't being giving the choice of offering himself up to protect his daughter this time. "In the afternoon," he grudgingly agreed. "Elizabeth and I have an appointment with our midwife that morning."

"Rebecca? Is that agreeable to you?"

"Sure, on one condition: it's just the three of us together, somewhere neutral, not at the house."

In other words, Elizabeth wasn't welcome. Rebecca would be surprised by how fine Will was with that condition. Keeping them far apart would be a blessing. "Of course."

Angelica smiled triumphantly. "Excellent. After they meet, my client wishes to establish a schedule of visitation with all due haste. The sooner Lucy is comfortable with her, the sooner Lucy can stay with her at her home in Seattle."

"Perhaps my opposing counsel isn't aware, seeing as how few international custody cases she's handled compared to myself, but long-term visits in different countries don't happen within a few weeks of introductions," Bria piped in helpfully. "At least not in any case that I handle."

"We can begin preliminary discussions on shared custody and what that entails at our next session," Jacob told them. "Now, there isn't a set limit but from experience, Judge Dalma would like us to attempt a minimum of four mediation sessions before this moves into the courtroom in two weeks. As difficult as these can be, I assure you they're preferable to an outcome where one of you may be truly devastated. Does anyone have anything else before we part for the day?"

"Yes." Rebecca stood and carefully righted her heavy purse, keeping her eyes locked with Will's. "I know I'm the bad guy. I'm the enemy at your gate, invading this cookie-cutter fantasy family you're trying to build, but I'm also Lucy's mother. I want to be with her, help raise her into a better person than I am, alongside you. I'm not going anywhere, Will. That, you can trust me on."

He nodded, her unheard threat of not being bought away ringing loud and clear. "Then let me tell you something about parenthood, seeing as how I have a roughly six-year head start on you: very rarely is it ever about what you want."

"Come along, Rebecca. Ms. McKendrick and I will schedule a time that works for all three of you." Angelica began leading her out of the room, pausing at the door. "And Will? Give my very best to Jack," she said, her tongue rolling seductively across his name. With that, and one last loaded look between himself and Rebecca, the women left, Jacob following after gathering the novel of notes he had written up.

"Was it a complete train wreck?" Will asked Bria when they were finally alone, slumping against the table tiredly.

"We drew even," she said after a moment. "She abandoned Lucy; you made highly questionable personal choices. Neither of you came away unscathed."

He couldn't help but snicker slightly. "You're calling your best friend a highly questionable choice?"

"I'm saying that's how our mediator will probably write it up as in his report when we're done with these useless sessions. I imagine the judge will put a lot of weight into that report, though, so we just need to keep the focus on presenting you as a doting father who puts his daughter above everything."

 _Not everything_ , he thought with a sigh, pulling out his phone to check messages. _Not over her brother. Hopefully, he'll never have to know…_

"Shit," he mumbled out loud as he read a long text from Anamaria. "Tell me she's not doing this."

"What is it?"

He suppressed another curse as he hit the contact number he needed. "Elizabeth left work early, said she didn't feel well. She left Lucy with Anamaria to rest at home, but one of Anamaria's second cousins spotted her at the Strathwood earlier."

"She's going to Weatherby for help," Bria concluded with a groan. "Trying to have Daddy make this all go away with his government influence and/or money. Rash, my darling Lizzie, far too rash."

"He wouldn't, though, would he? I mean, helping me doesn't seem to be a priority for him."

"It's not and he's a politician. He never gives something without making sure he gets more in return."

The only answer from Elizabeth was her voicemail. "Luv, it's me," he told her when he and Bria started to leave the conference room. "Call me right when you get this, please. I know what you're doing, but this isn't a good idea. We'll talk it over with Bria at dinner, okay? Just call me."

They waited on the sidewalk for the cab Bria sent for when she asked, "You really didn't know? About your father helping her?"

"He's not my father," Will snapped reflexively, "and no, I didn't. No one here did or they would've told me. I can't believe he would screw me over like this, with Rebecca of all people."

"How did he get the money though? I wasn't posturing, that facility she went to is like the Mercedes of drug rehabs. How could a middle-age man in sandals who lives on a boat afford that?"

"He was probably working as a mule, pushing the shit he was trying to get her off of."

"Well, someone thinks highly of him, don't you?"

"I try not to think of him, is the whole point." They climbed into the back of the car together. "Just forget about him, focus on getting me prepped for telling my daughter something that's going to change her life forever," he sighed, taking his phone out again to see if Elizabeth had called back.

Except no call ever came; not on the quiet trip home from Kingston or when they collected Lucy from Anamaria or when the three of them were preparing dinner together, Will wondering the whole time if she was straining over whatever her father was making her endure. All his texts and his second, more forceful voicemail were ignored, only adding to the frustrations that had piled up during the hellish day. Thankfully, Lucy was even more chatty than usual, too excited about her upcoming birthday and extra time spent with Bria to notice how often her father was checking his phone for messages, stalling the inevitable as long as he could.

Nothing about today had gone how he wanted it to. Facing Rebecca may have been a trial, but telling Lucy about her? Will didn't know if he could do it on his own.

He needed all his strength for such a talk and for strength, he needed Elizabeth.

Eventually, his time ran out. When he was cutting up her steak, Lucy finally dared to ask what he had been dreading. "Daddy? What were you and Bria doing all day?"

With a long glance at Bria, her wine glass half empty and offering him an encouraging half-smile, Will looked back to his daughter and smoothed her hair back a little. "So, um, I had to take a meeting that I needed Bria's help with."

"About what?"

"About…" The words died in his throat as Lucy looked at him with her wide, innocent eyes.

She still believed in Santa. She left thank-you notes for the Tooth Fairy. Hell, when it was a full moon, she'd blow it a kiss and tell it how pretty it was.

Almost every part of her was still pure and he knew with certainty it would all start to fade away when he finally opened this door for Rebecca.

He had never felt more of a failure at the one thing he promised himself he'd succeed.

Watching Will open and close his mouth several times, Bria took pity on him. "Say, Lucy, do you remember when we went on that awful, terrible, totally boring vacation together?"

"Uh-huh," she replied with a giggle.

"And how when we were in the hotel room at night, I'd have to go on my computer for work that I said was very silly but was very important?"

"Uh-huh." She turned back to Will, digging her fork through her baked potato. "Bria's a lawyer, Daddy. That means she says really big words to people and gets paid money for it."

"I know, that's why she's helping me now. Don't play with your food, sweetheart."

"Sorry." Swallowing, she looked between the adults before going back to her dinner. "What kind of meeting did you need a lawyer for?"

Sneaking one last look at his phone, he slipped it in his pocket, steeling himself for this moment as best he could. "Lucy, about a week ago I got a letter from someone. It…It was from your mummy." There was no response from her other than more chewing. Bria shrugged at the nonreaction and prompted him to elaborate with another nod. "She's come back to see you."

Lucy's brow creased in uncertainty. "My mummy came back? I thought she was…From where? Where'd she come back from?"

"From away. From trying to get well again, remember?"

"My…My mummy who was sick," she said slowly, her brow still furrowed. "Not my…Not…"

"Lucy?" Will watched his daughter as she stared at her plate intently, her young mind trying to solve a puzzle only she could see. Bria seemed concerned by her response as well and that sent Will's blood pressure sky high. "Lucy, what's-?"

"My mummy," she repeated, finally looking back at Will as comprehension finally dawned behind her eyes. "My mummy that left after she had me."

"Because she was sick," Will corrected gently, relieved she was starting to understand. "Not because of you, because she was very sick and needed to see doctors far away to get better."

"And she is? All better?"

"She seems to be, yes. That's the meeting I was at today with Bria. We were…You see we were trying to…"

"Lucy, you know what a rule is, don't you?" Bria jumped in to explain to the child. "It's something that you have to follow made by someone who's in charge of you, like your dad or a teacher at school." Lucy nodded in agreement. "Okay, for grown-ups rules are what we call laws. If adults break them, a judge will punish them and as a lawyer, it's my job to help people understand laws because they can get very confusing sometimes."

"Guidelines."

"I'm sorry?"

"Laws are more like guidelines than actual rules. As long as you're not hurting anyone else, people should follow the path that pleases them. That's what Captain Jack says," Lucy parroted amiably.

"Anyway, I'm not just any kind of lawyer," Bria continued, rolling her eyes at Jack's philosophical musings. "I practice a very special kind of law called family law. It means that when mums and dads don't live together, I work with them and a judge to decide how often their children get to see them. That's what we're going to work out with your mum and her own lawyer. It just might take a bit of time to get all the details sorted out."

"How come?" Lucy's fork started pushing her food around on the plate again. Will stilled her hand until she focused on him again.

"Because your mummy doesn't live here on the island. She lives in America." Squeezing her small hand softly, he fought to keep his voice from shaking as he continued, "She wants you to stay there with her, too. Not all the time but split in half with me for part of the year."

"I…I…I have to go to America without you?" Lucy frowned. It deepened into fear when Will nodded gravely. "But that's…I don't want to."

"Which is why your dad and I are working together. We're trying to convince the judge that its better if you stay living here while your mum gets to visit you lots. This way, you can still know her and have her be a part of your life without having to go so far away from everyone here."

Instead of reassuring her, Bria's words made Lucy's lips start to quiver, her whole face suddenly horrorstruck. Will's heart shattered to dust when her eyes started watering and she brokenly whispered, "I-Is Elizabeth leaving now b-because…"

"No!" he cooed, pulling her into his lap to rock her and kiss her head, glancing at Bria in shared shock as the tears kept flowing. "No, of course she isn't going anywhere. Why would she?"

"If…If…" Unable to answer around her hiccoughs, Lucy cuddled more into him, seeking reassurances for fears she couldn't give a voice to. Rubbing her back to relax her, Will searched for a reason why she thought seeing Rebecca meant losing Elizabeth and only came up with one.

"Your mummy and I aren't getting together again just because she's back," he murmured into her ear. "I…I love your mummy because she gave me you, but I'm **in** love with Elizabeth. I want her with both of us, always, and that's what she wants to, us. Probably you more than me because you're so amazing after all."

When her sniffles started subsiding, Lucy pulled back to regard her father again. "You promise she's not leaving? That she's coming home soon?"

"Sweetheart, we told you already: Elizabeth is just having a nice, long visit with her father before he goes back to London. That's the only reason she isn't here now, stealing the bits of your dinner you don't like when you think I can't see."

His teasing worked as Lucy graced him with a small smile. "No, Elizabeth just says my brother gets really hungry sometimes."

"For this rubbish? Poor boy." Bria winked at both of them and Will was gratified to see Lucy smile even more. Reaching for Lucy's hand, she pulled them both towards the stove. "How about your father packs up this pig slop and I show you how to make the best grilled cheese this side of the Thames?"

Deciding one night without veggies wouldn't scar Lucy's eating habits from here on in, Will took Bria's advice, putting away the leftovers while listening to Bria give a dissertation on proper grilled cheese preparation. It was as the two of them were going over bread thickness that Will's phone finally rang.

 _Don't do that again, luv,_ he thought as he eased outside to the front porch to take Elizabeth's call. _I know how hard it is for you with him, but you can't…_

His blood chilled to ice when he saw the caller wasn't Elizabeth.

It was Corrine.

Throwing on a stray pair of sandals, he raced to the car, turning the engine over as he answered. "What's wrong? Is the baby alright? Did something-?

"William, they're both fine," her patient brogue assured him. "Now take a deep breath before you give yourself a panic attack."

"The midwife calls an expectant father out of the blue and that's your only advice for him? Breathing?"

"Is there anyone you can leave Lucy with to come up here now?"

"Yeah, Bria's with her. Why do you need me to…Ms. Calvert, please just tell me what's going on."

Her end was silent, save for the sound of her feet moving. "Elizabeth is here. She's washing upstairs and she doesn't know I'm calling you."

"I thought you-"

"Something happened today with her father." Red-black fury flooded his vision and he blinked to dislodge it, pulling away from the house, gripping the wheel tightly with his free hand. "William?"

"What did he say to her?"

"I'll explain when you get here in one piece."

"I'll bash that fucker's head in with my bare hands," he vowed.

"Young man, you will do no such thing. That girl is my patient and I assure you the very last thing she needs now is to find out her baby's father ended up in prison for trying to murder someone. So, again, take a deep breath." She waited for him to reluctantly comply. "Come to the house. She'll be safe here until you arrive."

Speeding away from his own home, he drove the half hour to Corrine's in twenty, taking care to send a series of text to Bria about keeping Lucy for the night and calling Anamaria over if she needed help. When she tried to force her way into the situation, arguing that her best friend needed her right now, Will shot her down in an instant.

Elizabeth needed him and him alone.

Necessity didn't mean it was easy, though. He hated feeling like he had abandoned his daughter out of the blue, especially with how she had reacted to the news of Rebecca, yet it couldn't be helped. With sudden clarity, he realized this was to be the rest of his life: shifting focus between Elizabeth, Lucy, and the baby, (not to mention any others if Elizabeth wanted more children); never having enough for all of them and leaving at least one disappointed in him.

 _Amazing the human race keeps going on. Either I'm too sensitive or there's a way to have a family while keeping your sanity._

Somehow, he'd have to find it.

As unselfish as he seemed to the outside, there were three people he'd never give up.

Pulling in front of Corrine's, he saw Elizabeth's jeep parked haphazardly across the way, the sun setting behind it. Corrine was waiting for him on the steps, her dark hair in a messy bun and wearing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. He stopped below her, staring beseechingly for answers he needed but didn't necessarily want to hear.

"She's resting," Corrine began gently. "I gave her some chamomile tea. Poor dear barely got three sips down before she fell asleep.

"What happened with…?" No, he still wasn't ready for that one yet. Something simpler then. "Why did she come to you?"

"I was gardening, digging up some bell peppers when I heard a woman yelling down the way." She nodded with her chin to a spot he knew to be remote dirt path a few hundred feet away, obscured by several trees. "When I ran down there, Elizabeth was near hysterics in her car, and I started checking to see if anything was wrong physically. She tried to brush me aside, but I forced her over so I could drive us back. Did a scan and a quick exam as soon as she was through the door."

"And you're sure everything is fine?"

"Your lad is fine and strong. We've nothing to worry about with him. His mother, though…" She sighed, pulling her arms tight around herself. "The only reason she agreed to come in is that I promised not to call you, but you're what she needs, William."

 _Moment of truth then._

"What did he do?" Will asked defeatedly. "What did he say this time to make her-?"

"He found Rebecca."

It was involuntary, the bubble of laughter that escaped his lips, but it died a slow, agonizing death when Corrine looked at him with such empathy. "No," he said, shaking his head. "No, no, it was the stupid magazine article I did. That was how she…"

Rebecca had happened to have a friend that worked for the publisher of a niche magazine? A friend who knew her sordid tale? Who recognized her daughter just by her very common name? And then afterwards, Rebecca was able to find the money to afford a high-priced lawyer who happened to have an ugly past with Jack?

 _Well, Elizabeth certainly didn't choose you for your brains._

All the commotion of the custody ordeal had taken his focus off of Weatherby Swann and the man's not-so-subtle claim he felt he still had on Elizabeth, and that distraction had been costly. The battle lines were being drawn up when Will thought they had reached a détente.

"He told Elizabeth his people found her and paid for her lawyer, someone that Jack was involved with a long time ago," Corrine explained. His shoulders sunk as reality began to set in. "I'm so sorry."

"Jesus Christ." He paced back and forth a bit, his thoughts racing by too fast for him to catch. "I knew he was a narcissistic arshehole the second I laid eyes on him, but this? I didn't know people like him actually existed in places outside of movies. I guess I'll to see what Bria says, if she thinks this is something we should bring to the judge and…" In his peripheral, he saw Corrine worry her bottom lip, her own eyes avoiding his. "What? What else did he tell her?"

"He also told her if…if she wants to guarantee that Lucy stays with you, then she needs to go back with him to London."

He blinked, the very idea of it nearly knocking the air from his lungs. "Well that's mad. She can't honestly think-"

With great care, she joined him one step above, gently cupping his cheeks, stopping him. "She said she was going to have to."

Not for the first time (but perhaps the strongest in a long while), Will ached for his mother. Even through her own struggles, even when grappling almost daily with the pain of abandonment by her joke of a husband, in her embrace he had known surety. After she died, it had taken years for him to claw his way back to it. Now, standing like a statue before Corrine, he felt it slipping away.

No, not slipping.

Being ripped away from him by a powerful sociopath who had only helped the world by siring Elizabeth.

He flinched when Corrine wrapped her arms around him, pulling his stiff form to her. It was a pale imitation of what he really wanted but since he couldn't have that, he buried his forehead against her shoulder, fighting a fierce battle against sobbing, his whole body shaking until his conscious started screaming at him.

 _Tears? Really? Elizabeth endured emotional torture this afternoon and all you can offer her is tears? How pathetic._

Pulling away, he sniffed, swiping any moisture from his face. "I want to see her," he told Corrine.

Nodding, she led him into the house, tiptoeing together up the stairs until they came to one of the bedrooms. Corrine eased the door open, the small bedside lamp providing the light that led him to Elizabeth, curled up into a snug ball on her side, breathing deeply and steadily, the oversize shirt Corrine had loaned her a sharp contrast to the redness under her eyes. He took one step toward her before Corrine tugged on his wrist.

"You can stay with her," she whispered, "but you need to let her sleep. Her system took on a good deal of stress and I'd like her to recover as much as she can before…before whatever comes next."

"Got it."

"You're both welcome to spend the night. I can make up the sofa downstairs for you so you can get some rest as well."

He answered by going to the oversized armchair and maneuvering it noiselessly as close to the bed as possible, never taking his eyes off Elizabeth. He was so focused, he startled slightly when Corrine came back into the room with an extra blanket and a stethoscope. "What's that for?" he asked about the medical instrument.

"You." She handed it to him before carefully adjusting the thin cover off of Elizabeth until her clothed stomach was exposed. "Thought you might want to check in on him yourself."

"Thank you," he told her feebly. "For everything."

She nodded, squeezing his shoulder in support. "You'll get through this. The both of you will."

He smiled without feeling, fiddling with the stethoscope. "I think this time it might be impossible."

"Everything is, young man, until someone finally works hard enough to find a way."

He ruminated on her words for a long while, turning them over in his head as he listened to Elizabeth's soft breathing. With a feather-like touch, he eased her shirt up to show bare skin. After fitting the ear pieces in, he warmed the diaphragm and gingerly placed it on her, moving it slightly and straining until his son's strong, pounding heartbeat drowned out everything else inside his brain.

 _I love you_ , Will told him silently, closing his eyes, allowing himself a few tears as he thought of never knowing this little boy. _I_ _loved you from the moment I knew you existed. I hope your mother makes sure you know that. I'll hope for so many good things for you, mate._

It could have been minutes or hours before he was brought out of his reverie, dreaming of the life he wanted his son to have without him, by Elizabeth's hand brushing across his jaw. Slowly coming back to reality, he stared down to find her wide awake, her own eyes unreadable.

Sighing, he took the stethoscope off her, severing the link to the baby with an aching heart as he cast it aside. "Hey," he managed to say, unable to think of anything else.

"Hi."

It hit him then how this was so like the morning after they had made love, each still a little hesitant but secure in the declarations of the night before. Only now, it was twisted into a rough knot that Weatherby Swann kept tightening.

And Elizabeth was letting him, seemingly without any kind of fight.

Buried in the crevices of his heart, he had always believed that she'd leave him. As he had told others more times than he could count, she deserved so much more than him. She deserved only the best and he couldn't give her that. It just killed him that she was doing leaving not because he had failed her, but because her father wanted his prize back.

Nearly as much as when he imagined his daughter's face when he had to break the promise he had made to her only a few short hours ago.

With great regret, he wished that Anamaria had never found her that day he had left her on the docks. Then he would never have been pulled back to her with news of the baby; Lucy never would've known her or the pain her leaving would soon cause; and he himself would have been able to live out his days believing he was actually happy.

The future – both near and distant – would bring all of them only suffering. Perhaps it was best to just leave now and let the process unfold rather than avoid it.

Except with Elizabeth's hand still touching him, still connecting them, still warming him deeply in spite of everything, Will couldn't leave her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her, leaning down to brush his nose to her.

"You're sorry?" Her tiny giggle was incredulous. "My…That man is trying to have your daughter taken from you because of me and you're the one offering the apology?"

"He made his own plans, his own choices. You have no blame in this whatsoever."

"I let him in. He's evil; a devil in plain sight, only I never let myself see it. I was too stupid to look past his mask."

"You loved him. You wanted to believe the man who made you and raised you loved you. Trust me, from experience I know how tempting that can be, luv."

His movement to pull back from her stopped when Elizabeth took his whole face between her soft hands. "And I know what I have to do," she said, her voice strained but still clear. "We have to protect Lucy, no matter what."

"Elizabeth…"

"Rebecca can't be trusted with her. Even if she stays sober, she'll still take Lucy away to a strange place where she won't know anyone. I-I can't let that happen."

 _I can't lose you or my son_ , he thought, wishing he could scream it, but unable to bring her any more torment when she had endured enough today.

"I'll have Bria get started on the paperwork in the morning. I don't think I'll have any trouble convincing a politician as experienced as Weatherby Swann the logic of it all."

Paperwork? What was she talking about?

"What logic?" he asked. "I don't understand."

"I've been thinking of it since before Corrine found me. If I go back to London, Lucy will be safe but he'll…" Her tears dripped down her cheek anew as her hand joined his over the baby. Taking a deep breath to gather herself, she finally whispered, "That's why I have to terminate my rights to him. He won't be a Swann then and that man wouldn't be able to touch him."

"What?" he stammered, eyes squinting in disbelief, sure he hadn't just heard her.

There was no way she'd actually…

"I won't be able to keep him away from Weatherby in England. He has to be here, far away from him and m-me if our boy is going to have a chance. I can make Weatherby understand that having the baby with us back there is only going to be a reminder of you, of all the things he needs me to forget. He won't want him then, I'm sure of it." She sniffed, her hand caressing her swell as she gave it the saddest smile he had ever imagined. "Bria will bring him home to you and then…then you'll have the two of them, him and Lucy, together with you, where they should be."

It would be fair to say that nothing had shocked Will like that had, except he hadn't known shock until that very moment.

To protect his daughter, Elizabeth was willing – nay, **suggesting** – that she'd sacrifice raising her own child; a child she loved with all of that glorious heart of hers. She'd subject herself to a lifetime of brutalization at her father's hand, chained to his side until he found a suitable pawn to attach Elizabeth to; one that would make her miserable while he climbed social and political ladders on her back.

She'd do all that so he could raise both his children.

All that for him.

"I don't want you to worry about money or anything else either, if you don't want to keep working at the shipyard when the baby comes," he heard her say in the distance, his attention still trying to sift through everything else. "I got an email yesterday from Hank's lawyers. When they get the contents of my mum's deposit boxes released, there's apparently valuables in them: old stock certificates, jewelry, things like that. I want you to have it all."

 _She has it all figured out, doesn't she?_ Will thought mutely. _She's taking care of everyone, except herself._

"You can put it in trusts for both of them for their education or…or you could travel with them. Show them the world, all of it. Not just the beautiful parts, but the parts where people need our help. They need to see those things. I want them to have meaning and purpose, not wander around fumbling like I did for so long."

 _What about me? What about what I want?_

"But some of the money you should give to Anamaria, for the café so she can keep going with everything we started there. I'll get all my recipes together for her before I…before I…"

 _You leave. Before you leave all of us forever to wander around fumbling without you, luv._

"And please let Bria visit. I know how she is, but she does love you all desperately, even if she won't ever admit it. That's just how she is. Let her visit so the kids can see her. Then she can…" Elizabeth choked back a small sob, but Will was still too frozen to comfort her.

 _What? Tell you about them? About how Lucy's hair is a natural disaster because she screams bloody murder if anyone else tries to touch it? How she thinks she's too strange to have friends again? Or how our son stares at mothers when we go to the park or the grocer, wondering where his is? Are you going to want to hear all that?_

"And…And…" Collecting herself again, she met his eyes once more, "I want you to find someone for yourself, Will." At that, he snapped back into sharp focus, his angry musings fading away at her soothing plea. "When you're ready, I mean. Don't hang on to me when there could be someone else out there who could make you happy." Lovingly, her hand rejoined his cheek as studied his face, committing him to memory in the moonlit room. "You deserve nothing but happiness, Will Turner. That's all I want for you."

She really did have it all planned out, down to the last detail. In a way, he was impressed. Lately, he had been absolutely rubbish at plans. He either couldn't make them because of indecision or when he finally did, life came along to spoil them. Fate liked to let him know who was boss, he supposed.

 _No more_.

Letting go of her belly, he fumbled in his pocket as he slid from the chair down onto one knee in front of her. When it was within his grasp, he presented the ring to her between his thumb and forefinger.

"Elizabeth Swann, will you marry me?"

The rapid cycle of emotions her face ran through in that long moment would have been hysterical to him if not for the heaviness of the moment. Shooting up from the bed, she sat straight, blinking in what might have passed for Morse code. "Y-Y-You're…You can't…" she tried to say. "This is…"

"Marry me." His gentle command prompted her to wallop his shoulder, which only made him laugh with a genuine smile. "Please, I meant. Please marry me."

"Will, I…I…I don't…"

"What?"

Huffing shakily, she swiped underneath her eyes, fighting for some sense of direction to latch onto. "I…I don't…I don't think now is the best time!"

"Yes it is," he countered, holding the ring up closer to her face. "Now is the only time, luv. Marry me."

"But my father, he'll-"

"He doesn't matter. No one else does to me right now, except for you." Pressing forward, he kissed her stomach several times. "And him and Lucy. You three are all I will ever need, and I won't be a whole person anymore without all of you. So marry me."

"He'll fight us," she said breathlessly, her eyes growing larger as she finally looked at the ring. "He'll…He'll use every means to break us. He'll use Lucy and the baby if he has to. He's already moving Lucy around like she's a chess piece. What'll we do when he starts to take this even further?"

"We'll run," he said simply. "Or, actually, we'll sail, far away to a non-extradition country that Jack knows, financed by Hank DeMarcus, using fake passports that Anamaria and the others get their hands on while Bria keeps the lot of them out of prison. See, I can make impromptu plans too when the need arises."

"Will…"

"And I know it won't be that easy because nothing ever is but Elizabeth, I would rather endure weeks or months or even years of hell with you by my side than live a single day without you and though I can't guarantee, I think there's a fair-headed little girl with a strong Christmas tree obsession that feels the same." Taking her left hand, he kissed it reverently, eyes closed as if in prayer until he opened them to meet her earnest ones. "Again I ask, will you marry me?"

Swallowing, she touched the tips of her fingers to the ring, as if it would burn her if she got too close. He held his breath, trying to read her thoughts and trying to pass some of his (perhaps highly misplaced) optimism to her.

 _Say yes and I promise I'll never ask you for anything again_ , he thought, his eyes begging. _Just say yes. Please._

"S-So, if I have this correct," she began quietly, "if I agree to this…this idea, Mr. Turner, there's a possibility that I might someday end up sailing on the high seas, violating many laws, and being thought of by some as…a pirate?"

For the first time that day, there was no pain behind her smile and Will returned it, carefully slipping the ring onto her finger before pulling her into a searing kiss, letting their blissful tears mingle together. "Captain Elizabeth Swann," he vowed against her lips.

"Oh no: Captain Elizabeth **Turner**."


End file.
